


Woven

by alwayswithatoneofsurprise



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone is Badass, F/M, M/M, Multi, Slow Build, like seriously badass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-03-20 21:19:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3665421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alwayswithatoneofsurprise/pseuds/alwayswithatoneofsurprise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Passing like ships in the night, two lives brushing past each other, never quite getting close enough to actually touch.</p><p>Seriously badass detectives fighting crime, making jokes and attempting to have lives in the seconds stolen in between cases.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everything Has Changed

**+16 days**

“It’ll be fun!” Tony insists. Nat hums in agreement but Bucky just sighs. His gaze on his coffee, he wonders how long it will take for the caffeine to wake up his brain.

Bucky doesn’t exactly hate birthdays, he doesn’t. Part of him loves buying presents. He loves getting someone something that he knows they will love, and seeing their smiling face when they open it, not a fake smile, but a genuine smile that says ‘I can’t believe you remembered’ or something similar. He loves singing off key and annoying the hell out of the birthday person by singing to them endlessly.

 “Are you even going to tell Barton?” Bucky asks his gaze still fixed on his coffee as he takes another sip. He can feel the look that Nat gives him. He doesn’t need to see her to know what her face looks like right now.

“It’s called a surprise party for a reason dumbass.” Nat replies, before she starts chewing on the corner of her mouth.

Bucky knows better than to tease her now, Nat is amazing and incredible and doesn’t take shit from anyone, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get nervous, and Bucky can tell she’s not totally sure about this idea, but she thinks it will make Barton happy and Bucky thinks its adorable that Nat can be disgustingly cute with him, but Bucky likes his fingers, so he would never tell her such a thing. Barton’s birthday is still a few weeks away, and while Nat has only brought up the idea of a surprise part in the last few days, he knows that she’s been toying with the idea for weeks now.

It’s not the birthday itself he has a problem with, it’s the party, the pressure, the people, and what he hates worse is how the party used to be his favourite part of birthdays, and now, he hates it.  Now the very idea of it makes his skin crawl. Sure there are some things he still loves about the party, the free food and free booze and he doesn’t even really mind the hangover the next day. He didn’t used to mind the socialising, he didn’t, he was a charismatic guy who could talk to anyone about anything really, but now, not so much. Especially with friends of friends, they look at him differently, treat him weirdly, all because of the accident, all because of the scars.

“So you’ll come?” Tony asks after a few moments, and Bucky’s gaze is still fixed on his coffee, Nat rests her fingers on Bucky’s arm, knowing that he needs to be grounded, she can just tell, she always knows.

“It’s in my fucking apartment of course I’m coming.”

“You might meet someone.” Pepper offers up, and Bucky knows it is supposed to help convince him to come, that it is meant to make him smile, to make him look forward to the party more, and dread it less, but the prospect of a relationship, of anything, just makes him dread it more.

He hasn’t slept with anyone in months, on some levels he can cope with the dry spell, he can, it isn’t the lack of sex he hates, well he does hate that, but more so it’s the lack of intimacy he’s missed, well he misses feeling like a person, a proper person. And birthdays, or more so birthday parties are the parties that he can’t ignore, he can’t say he has to start work early or that he is sick, and every time he went to one, he came home feeling more shit than usual, and he would feel down for the next few days.

Bucky notices Nat’s grip on his arm tightening, as he looks up at her, he notices at once that she isn’t doing it on purpose, she doesn’t even notice it, Pepper and Tony have gone to get more coffee, so it’s just the two of them, and Bucky rests his left hand on Nat’s hand that is resting on him and as her eyes dart up to meet his, he gives her and easy smile and says, “Do ya think he’ll scream?”

Nat’s face splits into a grin and she gives a short laugh before she answers, “As long as he doesn’t wet himself.” She takes a sip of her coffee as her body relaxes

“Make sure he’s hearing aids are on and leave the rest to me.” Bucky smirks as he squeezes her hand before downing the rest of his coffee. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Be careful.”

“Aren’t I always?” Bucky smirks as he taps his gun in his holster before shrugging on his leather jacket and pulling out his sunglasses. She rolls her eyes but can’t help but smile, and as Bucky runs his hand through his hair before sliding on his sunglasses, he is still smiling as he turns to face the door. “Oh shit, sorry man.” Bucky apologies, his words stumbling as he stumbles, his hand is resting on the guys arm, trying to steady both himself and the guy, the guy  that he just walked into. Pushing his sunglasses up past his forehead, he can hear Nat roaring with laughter behind him which he chooses to ignore.

“It’s fine.” The blond smiles, and Bucky gives a relieved smile before letting go of his arm and opening the door that the guy had just walked through. Bucky’s phone vibrates in his back pocket and he knows for damn sure that it is Nat, so he ignores it, instead he walks out into the street, pushes his sunglasses down as he starts humming to himself as he heads to his car.

**…**

Brilliant just brilliant. This is the second time that he has walked into someone today, he feels like a complete idiot, even more so when the man who he has just walked into, or has walked into him, he isn’t really sure, grabs his arm to steady him, or both of them, again he isn’t really sure.

“Oh shit, sorry man.” The brunette apologies, his bright blue eyes widen with concern, and Steve isn’t entirely sure why this guy is apologising, sure he wasn’t looking, but Steve wasn’t looking either.

It was equally their fault, but instead of explaining that and no doubt embarrassing himself further, Steve simply opts for, “It’s fine.” He finds himself smiling, how could he not when the guys face is splayed with concern. The brunette smiles back, and if it’s not the most beautiful thing that Steve has ever seen he’ll eat his own badge. The brunette’s eyes light up and then he is turning away, heading off into the morning, and Steve is walking towards the counter, glad that there isn’t a line, he is more in need of a coffee than he was ten minutes ago.

“You are a human disaster.” Sam laughs five minutes later. He sits across from him his fingers wrapped around his cup as he shoulders shake and Steve sighs and takes another sip of his coffee. He wondered whether or not he should mention that he not only walked into two people before eight am. Sam only thought it was more hilarious when Steve scowled, so he had given up scowling and was instead focussing on finishing his coffee.

Sam’s phone rings and Steve downs the rest of his coffee, from the expression on Sam’s face he knows they have a case, which means he needs to awake and be alert and not walking into attractive guys with perfectly ruffled hair and smiles that light up Steve’s day.

**…**

It was well past lunch time, the sun wasn’t beginning to fade, not just yet but it wasn’t far off. Bucky knew he should have eaten before he followed this lead, but when Carter phoned him, she sounded urgent, he owed her a favour, and he was more than willing to give her hand, so his very late lunch could wait and that was two hours ago now. He’d left his car in the car park, when Carter had called he knew he needed to get there fast, so decided on his motorbike instead, he wasn’t planning on bringing anyone back with him.

Waiting outside of the building, his bike hidden from sight, he answers his phone on the second ring. It’s Carter again, and Bucky listens quietly before relaying the information he’s gathered since he last spoke to her. He’s not an idiot, he knows he has to tell someone before he goes inside, and while he plays things close to his chest, he’s always trusted her, so he tells her everything, well almost. Just as he moves to hang up, he can hear her take a short breath and biting back the ‘what’ that is attempting to force its way out, he waits.

“James, be careful.” Carter says, sounding just like Nat did this morning.

“What the fuck is with you people today?” Bucky sighs and he can basically hear Carter smile before he hangs up his phone. Making sure it’s on silent, he stuffs it into his jacket before heading inside, he can see a light on, and he can hear their voices, they sound calm, he knows there are five of them in the first room, he knows that Nat would kill him herself if she knew what he was doing, that he hadn’t called her for backup.

“Afternoon fella’s.” Bucky grins as he kicks the door open, there is a moment of silence and then it starts, the sound that over the years has become to music to Bucky’s ears, the sound of swearing and gunfire, and the smell of gun powder and blood, the smell that he is so used to, the smell that wraps around him and makes him fight.

**…**

This was killing him. One hand holding a half-eaten slice of pizza and the other holding his pen, he stared down at his desk again, wondering why he couldn’t figure this out, it should be easy, and yet for the better part of a half hour he had been at a total loss.  Sam is sulking, taking a sip of coffee before grabbing another piece of pizza. He has no idea, and has subsequently given up.

 “I’ve got it!” Maria yells, dropping the pizza slice on the lid of the box as her eyes run over her notepad again, making sure she is right, making sure she is sure.

“Enlighten us then why don’t you?” Sam says before taking another bite of his pizza, this case has defeated him, he had accepted that ages ago, he had the same clues as the others did, but he just couldn’t tie them together. Not like Maria could.

“A little sore we didn’t get this are we Sammy?” Maria grins as she leans over and pats Sam’s head, he groans and moves away from her touch and ignores Steve’s bark of laughter. “It’s so easy.” Maria goads and Sam glares at her before taking another bite of his pizza.

“You might’n even be right.” Steve answers and Sam looks up hopefully but the look on Maria’s face crushes Sam’s comment before he can even open his mouth.

“Oh I’m right.” Maria smirks and leans back picks up her slice of pizza and ignores Sam’s groan. The precinct is basically empty, it’s just the three of them in here, and after spending the last three hours scouring over a case, they decided to break for dinner and put their eyes on a new case, which Sam had hoped would be easier to solve, but it was turning out to be harder than the case he had been working on for the past two weeks.

“It was Miss Scarlett, with the rope in the observatory.”  Maria grins, dropping her notepad onto the board, purposely dropping it on Sam’s piece as she looks at him, “Wanna show me I’m right?” she adds. Sam sighs, and a small smile curls his lips, and he hopes desperately that Steve has one of those cards, cause he sure as hell doesn’t. Picking up the board, Sam’s fingers wrap around the envelope and as he opens it, Maria is watching him with a smile of utter surety.

“How do you always win?” Sam groans, dropping the three cards down on the board, Steve groans and pushes his hand through his hair, and he grins at Maria before taking another slice of pizza.

“Cause I’m fucking fantastic that’s how.”

“That is s-” Sam starts as he bats Maria’s hand away as she tries to steal his coffee, she smiles at him sweetly and he only tightens his hold on his mug and pointedly takes a sip.

“What are you moaning about?”

Steve looks up to find Clint walking in, his suit worn by the day, but offering no explanation to the small bruise on his neck. He has a stack of folders in his hands, and Steve forgets about the bruise and he wonders what new information the folders hold.

“We played Cluedo an-” Sam starts, turning to Clint and foolishly letting go of his cup, which Maria grabs and takes a long sip as she grins at him.

“You played Cluedo with Maria? Come on Sam you should know better than that by now.” Clint is laughing now, and Maria smiles at Sam triumphantly as she hands him back his empty coffee cup, Sam just pokes his tongue out at her.

Steve finishes off the slice of pizza before he answers, “In our def-”

He is cut short by the file that Clint dumps onto his lap.

“You can moan later, now-”

“Is that a hickey?” The words come out of Steve’s mouth before he can stop them, Maria and Sam look up from the first page of the file that they were skimming through, and follow Steve’s gaze to Clint’s neck.

“We have a lead.” Clint finishes, ignoring Steve completely, he grabs his gun and phone off his desk and heads towards the staircase without another word.

“It so is.” Sam grins.

“Come on!” Clint yells and Steve shuts the pizza box, wipes his hands quickly on the napkin and grabs everything he needs off his desk before he follows Maria and Sam towards the staircase, shrugging on his jacket as he slides his phone into his pocket.

“Shit.” Steve mutters, just stopping short of colliding with Sharon. Typical, he had gone a few hours without bumping into anyone, but now that the day is almost over, he couldn’t possibly leave the building without walking into someone.

Her eyes flick up to him as she gives him an apologetic smile as she says, “Sorry.” He returns the smile and goes to say something more before he notices the phone pressed against her ear and the tired look in her eyes. “For Christ sake James, answer your goddamn phone.” Sharon almost hisses into her phone as she walks off, leaving Steve paused at the top of the staircase, his eyes trailing after Sharon, knowing that it is none of his business, but still worrying about her all the same.

He doesn’t recognise the name, and assumes it mustn’t be a colleague, but then again, he doesn’t know everyone. Making a mental note to talk to her later, he heads down the staircase just as Sam yells out to him, “Hurry the fuck up Rogers.”

**…**

A bruise blossoms across his ribs, Bucky can feel it growing but he doesn’t mind, he’s had worse, and the gash in his thigh is currently taking up slightly more of his attention than his split lip and the cut on his cheekbone. Glancing at the man’s watch, Bucky sighs, it is almost ten, he promised Nat he would back, and he is running out of time. Smiling a little he looks over to the man looming in front of him.

It’s time to speed up the program.

There is only one thing that man hasn’t told him, only one detail left to disclose.

“Sagen sie mir.” Bucky says his voice clear and firm as he meets the man’s eyes, the dark brown void of light, but Bucky doesn’t mind, he may be tied to a chair, as the man sneers at him, but he won’t be for long.

His back to Bucky, the man grabs the knife off the table and as his eyes dance over the blade, reflecting the light bleeding through the crack under the door, he turns around ready to taunt, but his words catch in his throat. Bucky is standing right in front of him, a smile on his lips as he fist raises and catches the man unaware. Grabbing the knife before it tumbles to the ground, Bucky sweeps a kick, knocking the man to the ground just like Nat taught him.

“Nein.” The man grunts, but it comes out as almost a whimper, a desperate plea. He won’t tell him, he simply won’t, but Bucky knows he will. He is seconds away from cracking. Grabbing a pair of plastic cuffs off the table, Bucky grabs the man by the collar and drags him to the chair. A quick punch in the gut deflates the man’s resistance.

It only takes him a few seconds, and as he places the clip on the man, the clip that had been attached to him for the past hour, the clip that had delivered volt after volt of electricity through him, and the man, oh the cocky man who had attempted to have control, the man who had put up the voltage every time Bucky teased and taunted, was now sitting in the same position Bucky had been. That man is now at a loss for words.

“Sagen sie mir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Google translate seems to be under the impression that 'Sagen sie mir' is german for 'tell me', please let me know if that is wrong.
> 
> This is a bit of a slow build, but hopefully it'll be worth it :)


	2. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I know you’ve been wondering for a while about-” Fury starts and Steve can already feel his attention straying but then Fury stops and sighs and says, “It’s about your new partner Rogers.”
> 
> “My what?”
> 
> “Your new partner.” Fury says patiently.

**+15 days**

Stumbling through his house, Steve blindly reaches for the light switch, wishing that he had had the good sense to leave his hallway light on before heading to work. His apartment is showered with light and he kicks off his shoes, glad to finally be home. Clint’s lead was definitely worth it, but the two men they found, questioned and left in holding took far longer than Steve had hoped. Glancing at his phone, it beeped obnoxiously at him and he groaned. It was 2.17am, god, he had planned to be asleep by 10, and now he was utterly exhausted. Plugging his phone in before it could beep at him again, Steve had to force himself into the shower.

He could feel his muscles relaxing as the hot water streamed down him, and just as he was starting to feel ready to move his face off from where he was leaning against the tiles half asleep the phone rang. Stumbling out of the shower, he switched it off, wrapped a towel around his waist and just managed to pick up the phone on its last ring.

“Meeting with Fury at 8.” Sam sounded just as tired as Steve felt. Steve sighed and he could hear Sam let out a tired laugh.

“Since when?” Steve asks but the phone clicks and he’s left in his room, dripping wet and talking to himself.

**…**

A sigh escapes his lips as he leans against the door, trying to find his keys, he knew he put them in his pocket, after he left the station, he knows he did, but just which pocket? His whole body aches, and he knows he should have come straight home from the station, leaving his bike in the car park and taking his car, but no, he had to go up and write up a pretty threadbare shotty report for Carter outlining what he had learnt from that lovely man with the dark brown eyes, who was no doubt still passed out, cuffed to the chair right where Bucky had left him.

“A hah!” Bucky declares to himself as his fingers wrap around his keys, his mouth clamps shut seconds later, it’s just after 3, everyone will be asleep, he doesn’t want to be that loud asshole who wakes everyone up. Locking the door behind him, he leaves his key in the door and heads through the darkness to the kitchen, he doesn’t want to wake Nat, she’s exhausted too, and she’ll kill him if he did, just as he would her if their positions were reversed.

“Jesus Natalia!” Bucky shouts as he spots Nat sitting on the couch surrounded by the darkness, she flashes him a smile and he hits the lights, flooding the living room with light as he clutches his phone in one hand, trying to calm his heart rate down. He was sure she was asleep, but no, she was on the couch, sitting silently in the darkness, just to scare the living hell out of him.  Her comment dies on her lips as the light allows her to get a better look of Bucky, and without a word she raises herself off the couch and walks towards him, the smirk on her lips only a shadow of what it was a few seconds ago.

“I told you to be careful.” Nat almost sighs as she tugs Bucky’s jacket off and drapes it over the chair before getting a better look at him.

“I w-”

“Have a shower, I’ll get the kit.” Nat cuts him off, waving him towards the bathroom as she puts the kettle on before opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of vodka. “Couldn’t have just called for back-up could ya, too bloody stubborn.” Nat mutters to herself, knowing full well that Bucky can hear her, instead of replying he walks through his bedroom and into their adjoining bathroom and shuts the door a little louder than he had planned, and switches on the shower with a sigh.

**…**

“God you look awful.” Sam grins as he lays eyes on Steve’s sorry ass at the precinct just before eight o’clock. Steve’s shirt is crumpled and his tie is loose, and his eyes are half closed, his position suggests he is ready to doze off.

“Love you too.” Steve snaps back as he runs his fingers through his hair. The only way this morning could be worse he decides is if he was hung over, or got mauled by a dog on his way to work, either or really. Gratefully accepting the hot cup of coffee Sam pushes against his open palm, Steve gives him a small smile and slumps further into his chair as he takes a long sip.

Sam is chipper and ready for the day, his normal self completely, and Steve knows for a fact that he would have gone to bed at the same time as him, would have got just as much sleep as him, and yet here is clinging onto his coffee cup as though it is a life source and Sam is chatting merrily away to him not realising that Steve is completely zoned out.

It’s not that he hates meeting with Fury, he is a good Captain, far better than the last one they had, and he doesn’t even hate early morning meetings, usually he’s fine with them, he’s not as much of a morning person as Sam, but he is a morning person. But after going to sleep just before 3am this morning, which is the cherry on the cake of bad sleeps in the past week and a half, he could do with a sleep in.

“I’m sorry Rogers, am I boring you?” Fury asks as Steve yawns for the second time, only twenty minutes into their meeting. The first one he managed to conceal but the second one, well it hadn’t come at the most opportune time, and now Fury was glaring at him, and Maria, Clint and Sam were looking out the window, pretending to be somewhere else.

“Not at all, sorry sir.” Steve replies, knowing better than to give the reason, knowing better than to say he hasn’t slept properly for over a week and not for lack of trying, whenever he tries he wakes to the sound of a ringing phone, with a new case or a new lead, or something, that forces him out of bed, and when he finally clambers to bed after a long night of wake, he only has a few hours of sleep before he has to head on into work normally.

He manages to stop yawning for the next ten minutes, and he listens and takes the occasional note and looks over at the other three to say that they are paying much better attention so he can simply ask them later.

Steve is just starting to nod off when the meeting is concluded and the four of them rise to leave, and Steve has to stop himself from sighing when Fury calls, “Rogers.”

“Yes sir.” Steve replies, turning from the door as Sam gives him a smirk as the door falls shut behind him. All Steve wants to do is go home and sleep, and that’s what he is planning on doing, for two hours or so at least, cause he knows there’s not much happening, yet, he adds hastily not wanting to jinx it.

“I know you’ve been wondering for a while about-” Fury starts and Steve can already feel his attention straying but then Fury stops and sighs and says, “It’s about your new partner Rogers.”

“My what?”

“Your new partner.” Fury says patiently. Steve can tell this is going to be along conversation, and an unwanted one, so he drops into the chair in front of Fury and looks over at him, waiting for him to continue, but Fury doesn’t say a word.

“I don-” Steve starts, failing to conceal is sigh. He doesn’t mind working alone, and most of the time, he works alongside Maria and Sam, and Clint is almost always around to help, he has no need for a partner, and after his last one, he would rather not go through that again, he shouldn’t have to deal with vast incompetence on a daily base, he deals with enough stupidity without it being embodied in his partner.

“Need or want one, yeah you’ve made that crystal clear but you don’t have a choice.”

“Clint doesn-” Steve starts, he doesn’t need a partner, Clint doesn’t have a fixed partner either, so why does he need one, he can’t fathom why Fury sees the need to give him a partner, he works fine, better than fine without one.

“Cause Barton happily takes the young ones under his wing and works with outsiders, he has a rotating door of partners. Wilson and Hill are partners, and you can’t work solo forever Rogers.” Fury says and looks down at the file on his desk, opening it slowly, as he gives Steve the ‘we’re done here’ single. Holding in his sigh until Fury’s door is closed behind him. The desks are empty, and Steve is grateful, pulling his phone out of his pocket he sends Sam a text,

_Call if you need me._

Before grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair and heading home to bed, pushing all thoughts of the prospect of a new partner, he focuses on getting home and being able to sleep.

**…**

Time waits for no man. He knows the saying, he knows it well. His mother told it to him every morning, well more so she mumbled it to herself, as a reminder, almost as a promise to herself and to her children. So when the alarm goes off at 9am, despite every particle in his body telling him no, Bucky’s brain tells him yes. With a groan, he forces his eyes open and moves to get off the bed, he can hear Nat doing the same on the other side of the wall and when he turns off his alarm with a little too much flourish and ends up rolling himself off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thump.

“Shit.” He mutters to himself, and to Nat who he can hear laughing through the wall. Choosing to ignore her mocking like he usually does, he groans and while he considers spending the rest of his day in the exact same spot, not moving, just falling back to sleep, he forces himself up, wincing at the movement. His stitches are good, after all this time working together, Nat and him have a rhythm down, and she is bloody great at stitches, and a little bit of vodka to clean the wound and trickle down their throats is always a must. The bruise that has darkened overnight across his rib cage she could do nothing about, but he knew they weren’t cracked, he hadn’t broken anything, just a little scratched up, nothing he couldn’t handle.

His phone vibrates against the desk from where it sits plugged into the socket on the wall charging, and instead of ignoring it like he usually does before his morning coffee, he tugs on a clean shirt and picks it up, unplugging it before he heads into the kitchen and smiles gratefully at Nat who is halfway through making a pot of coffee.

“I love you.” Bucky smiles and Nat just groans, she’s just like him in the mornings, it’s not that they can’t operate on a few hours sleep, they have and they do frequently, they sort of have to working in narco, but after minimal sleep and before coffee, the most annoying thing either could imagine is an overly chipper morning person. He checks his messages, and spies nothing too important, nothing that can’t wait.

Pulling the lid off the cookie jar, he checks the labels of a few bottles before finding the right one, popping the lid he shook two out. Unlike normal people, Nat and him, had filled their cookie jar with various pain pills and any other prescribed medication. Placing the lid back on, he turns on the tap, and sticks his mouth under the stream of water. Ignoring the sigh of disapproval that slips between Nat’s lips he fills his mouth with water and swallows the pills, he knows better than to swallow them dry this time of the morning.

“We have the morning off.” Nat smiles, and Bucky knows that look well enough to know that there is something more coming, but he is exhausted and still aching all over. Grabbing two cups, he hands them to Nat, before leaning against the counter.

“Since when?” Bucky asks as Nat pours him his coffee and passes it to him. Taking a small sip while he waits, he doesn’t mind that it burns his tongue a little bit, Nat was nice enough to add some cold water before the coffee, as neither of them can take the taste of milk in the morning.

“Since now.” Nat answers with a smirk. Taking a sip of her coffee she watched Bucky place his coffee on the counter and turn away. “Where are you going?” Nat adds, as she watches Bucky’s retreating back.

“Back to bed.” Bucky answers heading towards his bedroom, hell bent on getting another few hours of sleep in before work. He knows it will be another late night, the odds of a good sleep are never in his favour.

“No you are not.”

Bucky groans in response and leant his forehead against his doorframe, squeezing his eyes shut, he clutched the door frame before breathing out slowly and pushing himself off the doorframe, he turns to Nat, who is smiling at him as she takes another sip of her coffee.

Bucky leans against the door frame as he takes in the growing smirk on Nat’s face. She grabs his coffee from the counter and walks towards him. Pushing it into his open palm, his fingers curl around it as he asks, “This is going to hurt isn’t it?” Nat doesn’t answer for a moment, she downs the rest of her coffee as she heads into her room, Bucky takes a sip of his coffee as he hears Nat’s cupboard open and she rummages around it for a few seconds and Bucky waits for her reply, he knows what’s coming, he knows where they are going, but he waits for affirmation anyway.

“Only if you’re slow.”

This is going to fucking hurt, Bucky decides as he places his half-drunk coffee on his desk and pulls open his cupboard. Part of him, a very small part of him is pleased, it’s been over a week, and he misses it, but another part of him, the part that is a lot louder and far more logical, is wondering what with break first, his body or his spirit.

He sighs and smiles into the bathroom mirror a few minutes later, either way he decides, it’s going to be fun.

**…**

Three hours of undisturbed sleep later, Steve no longer looks like shit, and as he reaches the top of the staircase, he sees Sam and Maria sitting in their desks. Maria is chewing on her bottom lip as she reads over a file and Sam is glaring at his computer screen, trying to change the data on the medical examiners report that he has been staring at for the past twenty minutes, trying to get dna placed on there from sheer will alone.  Placing a coffee cup in front of Maria and then Sam, Steve leans against his desk and asks, “Where’s Clint?”

“Uh he got a text, burst out laughing and said he had to go.” Maria answers, smiling gratefully at Steve before taking a sip of her coffee and letting out a small moan. Steve laughs as Sam looks from his screen and over at Maria before his eyes settle on his coffee and he takes a sip. Steve grins at the two of them, coffee was definitely a good plan.

“Wh-” Steve starts.

“I’m not his mother, I have no idea.” Sam sighs in reply between mouthfuls.

The phone rings and Sam picks up, so Steve shifts his focus to Maria, who takes another sip of her coffee while she writes before her pen pauses and her gaze shifts from her page up to Steve.

“Any new leads?” Steve asks even though he already knows the answer. Part of him still wants to be in bed asleep, but he isn’t, he has a case, more than one active case in fact, and he needs to close a few, or at least get a little further with them. They haven’t reached a dead end yet with his most current case, but they are close to doing so.

“Maybe.” Maria answers distractedly, her eyes still scanning the page. Steve knows that look, the way that she slowly raises the cup to her lips before she takes a sip, her eyes still on the page, and the way that she slowly rises from her chair, and heads to Sam’s desk where a massive stack of paper is taking refuge.

Sam slams the phone down with a groan as Maria shifts through the papers obviously looking for something. “We got another case.” Sam sighs, before draining his coffee and standing up, his body weighted and his expression uncertain for a moment before it fades.

“And?” Steve asks. He can read Sam pretty well, and he knows there is something more to this. Most of the calls they get are bad ones, they are homicide detectives after all, but Sam only rarely reacts to a new case like this, and his expression is unreadable.

Sam hesitates for a second, his lips pursed as he pulls on his jacket and stuffs his phone into his pocket. Straightening up he looks directly at Steve and answers, “You particularly are not going to like this one.”

**…**

“You skipped work for this?” Bucky asks as he helps Nat stand up, she nods over at Clint and he throws them both their drink bottles. Nat’s in leggings and a sports bra, and Bucky’s his track pants and one of his t-shirts, he feels a little self-conscious about his arm when he starts, he always does, worried someone will walk in but no one ever does, and when they do, they don’t notice the arm, too enticed by the fighting, they don’t care. He’s never worried about his arm in front of Clint or Nat, and sparring with Nat with Clint being a little shit on the side lines, is relaxing, it’s the only time Bucky feels free.

“Fuck yeah.” Clint grins, biting down on another piece of liquorice as he watches the two of them. Bucky sighs and Nat grins in reply.

They both know Nat will kick Bucky’s ass, they both know that’s going to happen, normally it’s a pretty fair fight but Bucky’s whole body aching and exhausted, Nat’s exhausted too so that allows him to win a few, but an hour in, there is no way he is going to win anything more, and honestly, he doesn’t mind. Sparring is sort of like dancing, just a lot faster, dirtier and far more painful, but Bucky seems to enjoy it even more. And sparring with Nat is one of his favourite things to do. He knows this is what he needs, his body may already be sore, and after a few hours here, ever fibre in him will be well and truly exhausted, but that doesn’t mean he won’t have enjoyed every second of it.

Placing their drink bottles down on the mat, they circle each other, both knowing that they don’t punch with the only intention to hurt, they aren’t malicious when they fight, they are co-ordinated, logical and fast, neither of them hold back though, and that’s why they love it; because they can trust each other, because they do trust each other. Bucky lands a kick and Nat stumbles backwards, and seconds later Nat sweeps his feet from under him, his back hits the ground and he can hear Clint whoop, for what is probably the twentieth time since he arrived less than half an hour ago. A phone rings but Bucky blocks it out, as he springs to his feet, his steps are a little slower than usual but he still manages to knock Nat back before pulling her over him and letting her body hit the mat with a smack.

**…**

Sam was not wrong, he hardly ever is. He hates this case, they all do, but Steve especially absolutely despises cases such as this. His jaw stiffens and he stops being the big warm softie that he is, and becomes terrifying, somehow seeming ever taller and broader than he is, he doesn’t get ruthless, not exactly, but they call him Captain America for a reason.

He can’t look at her anymore, he just can’t. He can’t see the blood splattered walls and the shredded clothes that litter the floor. He can’t look at the broken table and the shards of glass that cover the carpet and are embedded into her. Turning his chair away from the white board already covered in pictures of the crime scene, he scans the ME’s report again, fingers gripping the paper as he feels sick to his stomach. Homicide means hard cases, he gets that, he understands, but some of the cases, are just to-

Fury pops his head out of his office and glances over to the three of them, “Suspect?”

Steve looks over, looks over to Fury who has a phone pushed against his ear and a stack of folders in his hand, and Steve goes to answer, but looking at Fury means looking at the board and his eyes slide from Fury to the board and he swallows.

“Yes, we just gotta find him.” Maria nods, face solemn, eyes fixed to the white board, Steve knows she is thinking, she always is, but by the way she tilts her head as Fury’s door shuts, it’s clear to Steve that she may be onto something. The gears in her head are working and she crosses her arms, he turns back to the medical examiner’s report and tries to block the images on the white board out of his brain.

Eyes glancing up from the report, Steve can talk again, “We’ll find him.” He believes it, he knows they’ll find him, it’s been a few hours and this case is moving fast, not all of their cases are long and drawn out, some of them are actually all in a day’s work and if there’s even a chance of him sleeping tonight, this guy needs to be found.

“Before he kills again?” Maria doesn’t want to ask, but it slips out, and with her eyes on the woman’s driver license, she wonders if more photos will join this board before this case is solved.

Jaw clenching, Steve shakes his head, “We-” He is going to say that they will do the best they can, he is going to say that they will find him, that if they’re lucky they will find him before he kills again, that they’ve got enough evidence to commit him, that there is no way that he will slip between their fingers for too long. But he doesn’t say any of that, because Sam cuts him off with a whoop.

Steve turns from Maria to look at Sam, and waits for him to explain his delighted sound and the grin on his face. Maria is no longer looking at the white board and is staring at Sam who doesn’t answer for a few moments, instead he types quickly as his eyes are fixed to the screen and his smile widens. “Welcome to amateur hour.”

“What you got?” Maria steps away from the white board and towards Sam.  Steve knows Sam’s smile, knows that he must have found something good, and if they’re lucky, he’s just found their guy.

“Used his credit card at the petrol station.” Steve smiles, they are lucky, Sam did find this guy, which means maybe just maybe he can have a good nights sleep tonight.

Sam goes back to typing, fingers dancing over the keys and Maria picks up the phone, already dialling Clint as Steve dials another number, needing to inform the closest unit on the location of their perp. Steve is itching to go out, he doesn’t want to stay here and do nothing, he thinks they should be out there, but he knows they won’t make it in time, and that he can get back to actually chasing the bad guys tomorrow.

Maria says goodbye to Clint and drops into the chair beside Sam, coffee resting on the desk in front of her as she watches Sam type. A few more keys pushed and then Sam’s fingers still. “Oh there’s his smiling face-”

“Is he-” Maria starts after a few moments. The image is pretty hazy, the colours muted and little lines of static bubble across the screen but that doesn’t stop her from noticing the way his lips curl and it doesn’t stop her, or Sam for that matter, from noticing his body language.

Sam watches silent for a few seconds before he breathes, “Shit he is.”

“What?” Steve puts the phone down, there is a unit about two minutes away from the petrol station and will hopefully collect him without incidence. He would like to arrest this guy himself, but with him halfway across the city and time being a factor, it’s really not possible.

“He’s flirting with the chick behind the counter.” Maria answers, her fingers curling around her coffee cup before she brings it to her lips and takes a sip. She was sure she couldn’t be more pissed off today, was sure that today she had had her fill, but no, apparently she was wrong. Beside her Sam is silenced with his own disbelief, and as Steve’s eyes focus on the grainy image in front of him he starts to tremble.

“He just, he,” Steve’s voice shakes with anger and he can’t finish his sentence, can’t keep looking at the screen but he can’t tear his eyes away either.

Hand on Steve’s shoulder, Sam’s voice is soft as he says, “Yeah I know.”

They watch the grainy picture, and listen to the radios, and they see the smug smile wiped off his face as he realises the wailing sirens are just for him. Pushing herself away from the desk, Maria stands and glances over to the whiteboard, looks at the victims smiling face and whispers, “We’ve got him now.”

**…**

“Cheer up we’ve only got a few thousand pages to go!” Nat’s voice is dripping with enthusiasm and layered in sarcasm as she gives Bucky the biggest grin she can muster.

Bucky groans, “I will hit you,” and resists the urge to bang his forehead against his desk until his brain, or at least what’s left of it, is seeping out of his ears. This isn’t Bucky’s least favourite thing to do. Not exactly, but it is up there. Nat occasionally scolds him for ignoring it, but she can’t really say anything, she is just as bad herself. It’s not that they intentionally avoid doing it, other things are simply more pressing. So it gets put aside and forgotten, which is why Nat and Bucky find themselves at the tail end of 11 o’clock doing their fifth consecutive hour of paper work.

“I thought we covered that this morning.” Nat chuckles, her smile lingers for a few moments before it falls away completely and she gets back to paper work, gets back to the paperwork that has been scrubbing away at her will to live for over 8 hours today. They hadn’t meant to get such a backlog, but with so many active cases, and so many more important and urgent things to attend to, paper work doesn’t exactly take priority.  But that doesn’t mean they can ignore it forever, and with Bucky’s body aching all over and Nat yawning into her third cup of coffee, paperwork is probably the best way to be spending their evening.

Ignoring the half empty box of pizza that sits on the desk behind Nat, Bucky continues to write and moves to touch his stitches before Nat whacks his hand away. Sighing he goes back to writing and they remain in silence, both of them want to get as much done as fast as possible.

“Do you have the-” Bucky starts, not glancing up from the folder he is flicking through.

“Yup.” Nat scans the pile, tucks her pen behind her ear and sifts through the stack she was just looking through, she knows exactly what Bucky wants. “Ta-da.” Pages in hand she passes them to Bucky and leaves her pen in her hair as she turns to the computer and starts typing.

Bucky zones out, focuses on the paperwork and just lets his hand move and his mind does the thinking but not with all that much attention paid to the task at hand, beside him Nat does the same thing, neither of them make any errors, they aren’t careless or lazy, they just shut zone out and maintain efficiency, Bucky’s so absorbed in one of his files that he doesn’t even hear Nat’s phone ring, doesn’t hear her talking until she is hanging up and rising from her seat.

“Where are you going? We have a few thousand pages to go.” They’ve actually almost finished now, but that doesn’t mean that they have actually finished and hell, Bucky doesn’t want have to be stuck here and do it alone, because they both know if Nat leaves, Bucky will adamantly refuse to do her paperwork for her, but if he finished before she got back, he would do hers too, something that she loves, but the complaining that is endless in the weeks to follow such events, she doesn’t take too kindly to.

Nat drops her pen on the open file and rolls her shoulders, glad for something else to finally do, she likes paperwork even less than Bucky does, and it doesn’t help that he’s faster at it than she is. “Clint needs me.”

“Shit he okay?” The smile drops completely and Bucky looks concerned, he can tell from Nat’s expression that it isn’t like that, but it doesn’t stop him from asking, just in case, he did teach Nat to play poker, sometimes  she still manages to be unreadable.

“He’s fine, it’s-“ Nat smiles easily, doesn’t mention that she thinks it’s cute that Bucky is worried about her boyfriends health, because she knows that will just be her opening the door to teasing and whatever she can throw at Bucky, Bucky can easily beat especially where Clint is concerned.

“You guys are adorable.” Bucky coos and his smirks at Nat, his first instinct was to tease, but in their line of work he needed Clint was okay before he started giving Nat shit. Nat rolls her eyes, wondering why she even held her teasing comment back.

Nat swallows the rest of her coffee and glares over at him. “I will hit you.”

“I thought we covered that this morning.” Bucky grins, his eyes wide and sparkling. He’s still tired and sore but teasing Nat has already cheered him up immensely. Nat sighs and slings her jacket over her shoulders, she’s not at all surprised by the teasing, not even a little bit, although she did figure it was less likely to occur if she didn’t instigate, evidently she was wrong.

Nat smirks, “He requires my skills.”

“Tmi dude.” Bucky groans. Leaning back in his chair he lets his pen clatter to the floor as he pulls a face at Nat.

Nat barks out a laugh, “Interrogation James.”

“Uh huh, if that’s what you kids are calling it these days.” Bucky ducks underneath the desk and grabs his pen, a grin on his face when he pops up again and heads towards the pizza.

Nat groans, and rolls her eyes again. Taking a few steps away from Bucky, towards the door, towards where she is actually supposed to be she says, “Firstly, we are almost the same age! And secondly, we share a wall I doubt anything’s tmi anymore.”

“Don’t remind me.” Bucky shouts after her and he can hear her laughter as she heads down the hallway and he bites into a slice of pizza, already knowing that he will end up doing some of Nat’s files, just like he always does, and in all honesty, he doesn’t actually mind.

**…**

The sun is long gone, the evening spent and the next day is on its way, and after three hours of interrogation, there is nothing more that Steve wants to do than smash this guy’s head against the table till his nose breaks and his ears bleed and he is crying out for him to stop. And just like his victims pleads were ignored, Steve would probably go on ignoring his, until Clint physically had to pull him from the room. But none of that happens, he doesn’t break his nose, doesn’t even touch him, but _god_ does he want to.

He tries not to get emotional with cases, but he can’t detach, none of them can. He can be objective and his emotions don’t interfere with his work, mostly, but he can’t go home and shut it off completely, he carries what he sees home with him, and it keeps him up at night, plagues his sleep sometimes, but nothing makes his blood boil more than cases like this.

“Coffee?” It’s phrased as a question, but it isn’t, so Maria doesn’t wait for an answer before she pushes a cup of coffee into Steve’s hand and drops down onto the seat behind him.

Cup pressed against his cheek, his eyelids flutter shut and he takes a deep breathe, he’s exhausted, not tired, and the smell of coffee almost makes him feel relaxed. He doesn’t need the coffee to wake his brain up, after today he’s not tired, he won’t be able to sleep much tonight he knows that already. He wants the coffee, doesn’t need it, so he takes a small sip, followed by a long one, holds it in his mouth, lets the flavour fill him before he swallows it.

Maria lets her head fall back against the couch cushion as she repositions herself trying to get comfortable. Steve rests the coffee cup on his lap and asks, “He confessed yet?”

Usually he’s in there with them, he doesn’t like the interrogations so to speak, but he’s good at them, he knows what buttons to push, he knows how to read people, but he had to remove himself from the interrogation room before he did something that sure he wouldn’t really regret, but something that he probably would be expected to regret. He’s one of the best interrogators in the precinct but he’s got nothing on Clint, Clint can push the better buttons, can read people faster, and can almost see what makes the person tick. He’s the best interrogator that Steve’s worked with, but he can’t break everyone.

Maria shuffles in her seat, her eyes shut as she takes a sip of tea, she’s still hopeful that she’ll be in bed in the next hour. “Barton can’t crack him but he’s getting someone who can.”

“Someone?” Steve asks, eyes shifting from the ceiling to Maria.

Maria nods. “Someone.”

Coffee drunk and body heavy, Steve sits silently, running over another case in his head, hoping at the back of his brain that this case will be practically finished by the time the sun rises.

**…**

Out of coffee but not in the mood to get up and get some more, Bucky keeps working, he knows enough about Nat’s cases, working on half on them with her, to do her paperwork with minimal issues. He doesn’t advertise it but he’s pretty damn good forger, it took him about ten minutes to get Nat’s signature down, and that’s because hers was actually a little complicated, but that was years ago, now he can write like Nat without even thinking.

His phone on silent, he misses a call and just gets absorbed in the paperwork, he knows he probably won’t get all of it done before he heads home, but with the last slice of pizza in one hand and a pen in the other, the rest of the world drops away and he focuses on getting as much done as he possible can.

An hour passes and then another, but Bucky doesn’t notice, he doesn’t notice the yelling that takes place in the office next to his, he doesn’t notice when another hour passes, and while he sort of needs to pee and could do with cup of coffee, he doesn’t get up, he finishes his own paperwork and just keeps going.

“Please tell me you finished my paper work for me.” The voice makes Bucky jump a little, he didn’t notice Nat approaching. He swipes his phone screen twice more and grins, he finally managed to pass the level of Candy Crush he was stuck on for the past month.

Phone locked, he drops it on the desk as he swivels to face Nat. “Course I did.”

“I love you!” Nat exclaims. She knew he would finish them if he had time, and she ignores how he rolls his eyes and gives him the cup of tea she made for him a few minutes ago.

Bucky takes an eager sip, eyes flutter shut as he slumps back into his chair and asks, “You say that now… how’d it go?”

“Full confession.” Nat answers smugly. The confession didn’t take too long, they never usually did, but this one took a little longer to crack than usual, the client was a dumbass but his lawyer was actually pretty on to it. It took a while to get all the paperwork and everything done and she may have had a cup of tea with Clint before she came up here, she didn’t want to disrupt Bucky’s flow. 

“That’s my girl!” Bucky grins. Around him the paperwork is sorted into piles, someone will be able to collect them at a more decent hour, but Bucky and Nat were completely done with paperwork and interrogations for the time being. Grabbing her jacket and her keys, Nat headed towards the staircase with Bucky a few steps behind him, both of them eager to get home. “Thanks for not disrupting my flow.” Bucky adds as he shrugs his jacket over his shoulders and she sighs, of course he knew, he somehow always did.

**…**

He doesn’t believe it, he must have read it wrong, hand running through his hair he dials. Clint picks up on the first ring and Steve can hear him sigh, but before he can say anything Steve asks, “I’m sorry what?”

“I told you to go to sleep Steve.” Clint doesn’t even sound a little bit surprised. He isn’t their superior but he had sent Maria, Sam and Steve home to get some sleep only a few minutes in to Natasha’s interrogation, there was nothing more they could do tonight and he needed them bright eyed and bushy tailed in the morning, they still had other cases to attend to, not many cases got through this fast.

Steve shakes his head and heads towards his bed. He’s in his pyjamas already and he has brushed his teeth, he got ready for bed he just didn’t get into bed, he had a few files he wanted to look over and had a game recorded on tv that he has been meaning to watch for the past three days. “No you said go home, I’m home-”

“We got a full confession, he’s going to jail for this, now go the fuck to sleep Steve!”

Mouth open to reply, Steve sighs as Clint hangs up. He didn’t want to leave, wanted to stay at the precinct but he was exhausted, and Clint was right, they needed to be fresh for tomorrow and Maria hadn’t really given him much of a choice. Alarm pushed forward two hours, Steve drops into bed and tries to forget about the day. And if he falls asleep thinking about a brunette who he can’t name or place, what’s the harm in that. He isn’t ready to date, too busy, but his dreams are his own and he flirts with the brunette with a pair of sunglasses that never leave his face, because he doesn’t have nightmares every night, sometimes his brain can be kind, and sometimes in his dreams, he can actually be content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if it's the description of this fic or maybe the fact that there are 17 chapters and people don't want to wait around for that, but this fic doesn't seem to be getting many hits. So I've taken off the total chapter count, but just letting you know this will have 17 chapters in total and this fic is basically completed at the moment, so updates will be pretty regular. 
> 
> Also this fic is completely and utterly unbeta'd.


	3. Holy Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve was wrong, oh how he was wrong. He had hoped this wouldn’t go badly, but so far it had gone worse than they had imagined. Splitting up was not the best plan, he knows that now. At first they thought this was an old lead, they thought that they’d missed this guy yet again, but now it was abundantly clear that they hadn’t missed him, he was still here. He hadn’t been waiting for them but he was prepared nonetheless. This case was over three months old now, had been put on a backburner, but not anymore.
> 
> “Put the gun down!” Sam yells and Steve stiffens. No one knows he’s here, he made sure of that, he knows that Sam can’t see him, that his radio is out, that Maria is probably unconscious and that Sam has at least one gun pointed at his head. “Look we can help you-”
> 
> Steve hates these old buildings, he always feels like he’s about to fall through the floor, but perhaps that is exactly what he needs right now.

**+14 days**

Mornings are designed to be slept through. Bucky firming believes that some days, and other days mornings are amazing and powerful things that he loves to live through. This morning is the former, he doesn’t want to be awake, he wants to be asleep in bed, unconscious and unaware of how much his body hurts. It had hurt enough before Nat decided that yesterday morning was the best day to spend two and a half excruciating hours of sparring. Not that Bucky didn’t enjoy he, he did. He enjoyed kicking Nat’s ass and he enjoyed getting his ass handed to him by Nat, either way he enjoyed it, but this morning, as his limbs ache all over, he can’t quite see the sense of enjoyment.

“Another.” Nat groans, her head against the table, her eyes closed and her phone sitting beside her, on vibrate. This morning is not a good morning for Nat. While Bucky got a full six hours of sleep, Nat’s phone had rung less than three hours after Nat’s head hit her pillow, and she was pulled onto an active case. She had fallen asleep in the locker room at the precinct by the time Bucky had arrived, so he had pulled Nat to their coffee place and told her coffee was on him this morning.

“Yes dear.” Bucky smiles and avoids Nat’s arm that moves to hit him.

Leaning over and planting a kiss on top of Nat’s head, he barely avoids the second hit and heads towards the counter, two coffee cups in hand and a growing smile on his face. There are a few people in the queue, and Bucky waits patiently, he doesn’t mind waiting, as he does, he gets to scan the coffee shop, making up stories about the people he sees. Some of the people have clearly being awake for hours, some haven’t been to sleep yet, some are hung over, some kissing, some having a mental break that only a cup of coffee can cure, and as Bucky looks around, the line slowly moves forward, and he is humming along to the radio by the time he reaches the front of the queue.

“Is that a smile I’m seeing?” The teenager behind the counter asks, his jaw dropped and his eyes wide with fake shock. Bucky’s smile widens as the brunette adds, “I didn’t know those lips could possibly curl like that before 7am.”

“Good to see you’re still a shit before 7 Peter.” Bucky replies. He is grinning at the brunette standing behind the counter as he places the two coffee cups in front of him. Bucky and Nat come here a few times a week, and for some reason the sarcastic and annoyingly curious teenager behind the counter had taken a shine to Bucky and Nat immediately, and Bucky had to say the feeling was mutual. When the place was empty, and Peter was working, he would come over and chat, or Bucky would lean against the counter when he was there alone and would let Peter rant or simply ramble on about school.

“Long night there James?” Peter asks and Bucky sighs, it took him about two weeks to pick up on Nat calling Bucky, James on occasion and so Peter had started doing it just to see Bucky’s eyebrows knot in frustration, but now he doesn’t really care, he just sighs and smiles.

“Did you finish your essay on time?” Bucky asks as Peter steams the milk and he sees Peter’s face light up before he tries to conceal it, but the grin still lingers and his eyes still shine.

“Yup, it totally kicked ass, I got an A.” Peter answers a few seconds later, still grinning but trying not to be so pleased that Bucky remembered, he shouldn’t be surprised by now, Bucky and Nat always remember, they always ask but Peter is still shocked that they care enough to remember, to ask.

“Good job kid.” Bucky smiles and Peter grins before turning away from Bucky. Bucky can’t help it, he’s fond on the kid, he doesn’t have a little brother, but in the past year Peter has sort of become one, and he likes to think that Peter looks up to Nat and him, Bucky can almost hear Nat’s voice in his head, ‘Didn’t take you for sentimental James.’

Peter talks about his chemistry test as he makes the coffees and Bucky listens, nodding his head as Peter talks, his eyes still scanning the café, his mind ever assessing the threats that surround him. Peter smiles at him as he places two fresh coffees on the counter and says, “Double shot for Natalia, should brighten her mood.”

Bucky laughs and hands Peter a $10 note, knowing that in about ten seconds there will a voice interrupting Bucky’s thoughts, and seven seconds later Nat says, “I heard that.” and Peter laughs and smirks before handing Bucky his change.

**…**

“I will punch you.” Sam threatens as Steve approaches, he can hear his footfalls get louder and he can practically hear the grin that is forming on Steve’s expression.

“On your left.” Steve grins, running past Sam, not running fast enough to escape Sam’s groan, and he tries to push himself faster to keep up with Steve but he knows it’s no use, so he slows after a few seconds and just settles on keeping his regular pace and Steve slowly disappears into the distance. Every time they run around the park together Steve will lap him once or twice, and every time he does, Sam resists the urge to trip him over, and every time the urge to do so massively increases.

 

Three hours later and Steve is running again. This time it is not leisurely through the park, listening to his music as it blares through his headphones and he avoids running into walkers who are not looking where they are going. This time he is climbing down the fire escape, shouting out for the man below him to stop as he follows after him, feeling increasingly hot in his suit.

The man below groans as he lands on the concrete and takes off at a run, but he isn’t as fast as Steve, Steve isn’t exhausted or coffee dependent, not just after lunch, so as he clambers down the last few steps he jumps, landing lightly before he takes off at a run. He yells out to the man in front of him, who tries to speed up, but as he turns back to look at Steve, Steve’s feet have already left the ground and he is lunging forward tackling him to the ground.

“Nice job Cap.” Maria grins almost a minute later as she leans against wall, watching Steve get to his knees before handcuffing the guy and pulling both himself and the perp to his feet. She resists the urge to clap, but just barely.

“Thanks.” Steve says sarcastically. He knows full well that Maria was still in the apartment, assessing like she needed to, checking for anyone else, making sure their perp didn’t have anything obviously stashed.

“You had it.” Maria glances at their perp, her eyes taking everything in as Steve hands her the gun he pulled from the back of this guys pants. In all honesty Maria’s a little disappointed, thought this guy had more fight in him, but apparently running was all he was going to do today. Smiling at Steve she asks, “Paper, scissors, rock?”

“Seriously, you can’t ju- fine.” Steve really doesn’t want to be stuck with doing the paperwork for this guy, would rather be helping Sam on the case that he was working on, and he doesn’t really think that paper, scissors, rock is the best way to delegate the boring work to, but he knows better to argue with the look on Maria’s expression, and he knows her, doesn’t he?

Apparently not well enough.

“Suck it!” Maria grins, her rock took out Steve’s scissors. The perp watches the two of them, looks like he wants to say something before he thinks better of it and shuts his mouth, purses his lips and lets Steve drag him down the alleyway back to the street and over to their car.

**…**

He won’t tell this guy to shut up, he won’t stand up and leave the room, but he wants to do both. Instead Bucky listens to the guy ramble on, he doesn’t know who he is, well he has his name and file on the table in front of him but that is of no consequence, this guy is trying to give information so they’ll drop the charges of possession and selling of cocaine. He doesn’t know why he was even called in to interview this guy, he is completely useless, for someone who is actually part of that world he knows a shit load of nothing.

The woman before actually knew a thing or two, but this guy has been talking out of his ass for the past ten minutes. Bucky had wondered if he may say something worthy in his endless chattering, of course purely by accident, but now he’s simply repeating what he’s already said, and Bucky is wondering if he was called to talk to this guy just to piss him off. Schooling his expression from boredom to disdain, and not even attempting vague interest he looks up from the notepad he has been absentmindedly doodling on for the last few minutes. Meeting the guy’s eye, the atmosphere in the room shifts, the next word that was about to fall off this man’s tongue freezes, his entire expression drops and he shuts his mouth.

 

The door fall shuts behind Bucky a few minutes later and less than ten sentences later. Behind him the man is biting down on his cheek in a futile attempt not to cry, he’s already shaking, his hands gripping one another as he stares down at the table.

“He’s ready for you.” Bucky tells the man with an easy smile and kind brown eyes. Bucky knows his real name, he’s sure he does, but he’s not in the mood to search his brain for it and instead nods to the man they call the Falcon before he heads away from the interrogation room.

 

The frown has settled on his features by the time he reaches the empty conference room. “Natalia.”

She stiffens a little at the sound of his voice, but she doesn’t swear at him like she usually does when he sneaks up on her. He didn’t do it on purpose, not today, not that he usually sneaks up on her, but whenever Bucky slips into his head, just like he had on his walk here he’s almost silent. He knows for a fact she does it all the time just to scare the shit out of him. They’re both quiet normally, but they can be silent when they want to be.

Without turning from the whiteboard that she is currently scrutinising she answers, “No.”

“I didn’t ask you anything!” Bucky crosses his arms and stands in the doorway, eyes scanning the board, he remembers this case, remembers Nat booting him off it cause they only needed one of them.

 “You were going to, I know that look James, it’s the ‘I need a favour’ look.”

“You can’t even see my face.” Nat shrugs in reply but doesn’t offer up anything else. He doesn’t need to see Nat’s face to know that she smirks at his reply, knows that she knows the look on his face without even seeing it. “And anyway it’s the ‘we have a case’ look.”

“Hmm…” Nat hums noncommittally, she knows she’ll end up doing it, neither of them can say no to each other, well than can, sometimes, but not often. “You have a case.”

Bucky sighs, his shoulder propped up against the doorframe. “Okay fine it’s not our case, it’s my case, but-”

“File.” Nat extends her free hand out towards Bucky. She hasn’t looked away from the whiteboard since he said her name, but she knows he has the file tucked underneath his arm, knows that he won’t show up without information.

“You’ll do it?” Bucky asks, he isn’t really sure why he asks, he knew she would. She gives him a look and he grins back at her. He could do it by himself, but not as effectively as Nat, not even as efficiently as Nat. He could get the flash drive no problem, but his case needed more information before it moved forward and for that to happen before day became night, he needed Nat’s help.

File in hand she opens it, eyes scanning the front page as Bucky drops onto the conference table behind her. He nudges her knee, not for her to move, just because, and she looks up at him and sighs. “Who’d you punch now, colleague or perp?” She runs her fingers across the new bruise on his cheekbone and tries to fix his split lip with her gaze alone.

“Seems like both.” Bucky doesn’t stare at his lap, he meets her eye, this wasn’t some drunken bar brawl or an incident where he should have kept himself in check, he didn’t hesitate this time and he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

Nat doesn’t want to push, she knows that determined look on his face. She knows that his body still aches from the last few days and she wants to scold him for fighting with a colleague when he was a little worse for wear, but she knows it wouldn’t help. “James…”

“Ain’t my fault he talked shit about Darcy.” Bucky cuts off her soft tone and he almost spits out the word ‘he’. He doesn’t need to name him, Nat already knows who he’s talking about. They both want to punch him but they usually resist, but not always.

“She can-” Nat starts, her eyes flaring, glad that Bucky knuckles look worse off than his face, glad that he thrashed him, even aching and bruised, Bucky and her aren’t easily beaten, especially not by the scum that Bucky fought today.

“Handle herself, yeah Nat I know but she wasn’t there to taser him herself, so I handled it.” Nat chuckles a little at that and flips the page. Bucky reads over her shoulder, wondering how much she already knows about this case, wonders what thoughts she is already constructing as she reads.

Nat is four pages in before she asks Bucky, “You gonna tell her?”

“What good will it do if I do.” Bucky sighs. Darcy can handle herself, she doesn’t need to be sheltered but he can’t help but be protective, and the issue is dealt with, the guy can’t really be as much of a dick with a  broken jaw, and Bucky is pretty sure he learnt his lesson.

As Nat skims the next few pages Bucky wonders whether or not Darcy already knows, and he knows that he will tell her, probably, he’ll just wait a day or two, let him think the dust has settled before Darcy gives him a little visit.

“Coffee first then we plan.” Nat says as she nudges Bucky’s knee. She already has half a plan formulated and she know Bucky will have something in mind, plans never work, but Fury likes them going in with some semblance of one. Although what Fury doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

**…**

He already knows that arguing is completely pointless, knows that since all three of them have agreed on this, that there is no way he can wriggle out of this, but he can’t resist. Trying his best to keep a straight face Steve whines, “I still don’t know why I have to get the food.”

“Cause you lost paper scissors rock Stev-o.” Clint answers him as he shuts Fury’s door behind him. Steve almost jumps, he hadn’t expected Clint’s voice to come for a few steps behind him, Clint chuckles at Steve’s reaction but the other two don’t notice.

“That was for the damn paperwork, and I did it.” Steve turns to Clint, knowing that there is no way he could possibly convince Maria or even Sam who was on his third consecutive hour of calling people from a list Carter gave him, and he is in no mood.

Clint opens his mouth to speak but Maria pipes up from behind Steve, “But not by yourself, I was nice, I helped.” Clint laughs when his eyes slide to her, he’s only been gone a few minutes but he missed Maria breaking her pen, something that did cheer up Sam for a few seconds before he was almost shouting into the phone, and now she has ink all over her hands and a stripe on her face that Steve has decided to not tell her about. Yet.

Sam’s shoulders tense and he hangs up the phone yet again, a scowl on his face as he runs his hand down his face. Watching him Steve smiles and asks them all, “Same as usual?”

Steve is answered with a chorus of ‘thanks’ and ‘yes’ and smiles and nodding heads. He doesn’t mind getting the sandwiches, he actually wants to go out and stretch his legs, doesn’t mind getting the food that they all need while getting himself a break from this case at the same time. He pouts all the same and sighs dramatically as he shrugs on his jackets and heads towards the stairs, and as usual the others just ignore him.

He’s a little lost in his thoughts as he walks down the street. Shoes slapping against the pavement, the chattering and sounds of the city that surround him are actually relaxing. The sun is up there, hiding behind a cloud, and Steve smiles to himself, glad to be out of the precinct, glad to be on his feet, glad to-

“Shit.” The word falls between Steve’s lips before he can stop them.

“Fuck.” The word is barely more than a breathe, in a voice that is completely unfamiliar. Steve hopes this guy doesn’t crash to the floor, he often ends up knocking people to the ground if he crashes into them.

Steve’s eyes snap away from the building that he was admiring across the street, and focus on the man who is standing in front of him now. He knows that he should have been looking where he was going, he should have been, but it was the building that he had been thinking about drawing for the past few weeks but just hadn’t gotten around to it, and when he had looked away the pavement in front of him was empty, not a soul in sight for the next few metres.

“I’m sorry I was-”

“No it was my fault, I was admiring the building and I just-” Steve shakes his head and cuts the man off, he bumped into him, he’s clumsy like that, the other guy shouldn’t be apologising to him. It’s ridiculous he’s never clumsy when he’s fighting or holding a gun, but when he’s not doing that, he wanders into doors and table corners and the occasional person. His sentence trails off as the guy pushes his hand through his hair and looks up at Steve those blue eyes giving him pause.

The brunette no longer looks embarrassed; a grin is beginning to curl his lips. “Admiring the building huh?”

“Shut up.” Steve answers, no hardness in his tone, he smiles as he tries to look even a little bit serious.

The brunette keeps laughing, bearing his teeth as he grins at Steve, “Nah man each to their own.”

Steve sighs, wondering what he did to deserve getting teased by a complete stranger, he wonders for a moment if Sam knows this guy. “And what were you doing that was so distracting then?”

Steve tries not to notice the darkening bruises that are scattered across the brunette’s features, and he tries his best not to wonder how it got them, or what his sleeves are covering. The smile on the man’s expression falters and he drops his gaze as he bites down on his bottom lip shyly, absentmindedly Steve notices its cut but he doesn’t even process that. Steve feels like a dick now, he shouldn’t have asked, it’s none of his business and he-

“Honestly, I was making eyes at that trash can.” The brunette answers, his expression set for a few seconds, before he looks up through his lashes and meets Steve’s eyes. Steve groans, he can’t believe he actually bought it and the brunette bends over in laughter, laughter that try as he might Steve can’t not join in on. The man takes a step back and Steve isn’t sure why his feet want to follow him, but they stay put, just. “I’ll leave you and your building to it, sorry man.” The brunette smiles at him again and takes a few more steps away.

“Sorry.” Steve apologises, realising that he hasn’t actually apologised since walking into this guy. This guy that he is feeling like he’s seen before, he knows he has now, but he simply can’t place him. He hopes he doesn’t recognise him from mugshots he spent an hour looking at today, he hopes he hasn’t arrested him before either, that would put a damper on the romantic possibilities currently being weaved by Steve’s subconscious.

His eyes trail after the brunette, the brunette who are wearing jeans that should not be legal, and even though Steve can’t see his face he is sure this guy is smiling, is sure that he can feel Steve’s eyes on him, and he watches him for a few seconds, trying to place him. His phone rings, a loud obnoxious sound that pulls him from his thoughts and as he turns away from the retreating brunette, his focus is stolen and he doesn’t give him another second of thought.

**…**

Bucky drops onto the park bench beside Nat, hands her a coffee and slumps down in the seat, a smile still touching his lips, one that he hasn’t been able to get off his face for the last few minutes. She finishes the call as he closes his eyes and drops his head onto her shoulder, his body exhausted, but not bleeding, those men weren’t armed, well at least.

Phone flipped shut simply because Nat likes the act, she stuffs the burner phone into her front pocket and asks, “You call that twenty minutes?”

“I am two minutes late, at most.” Bucky barely moves his lips as he replies. He knows they aren’t been watched, he made sure he wasn’t followed here. Nat’s coffee had survived the journey but his own wasn’t so fortunate, right now some man is wiping it out of his eyes.

He pats his pocket as he feels Nat’s eyes scan him, he got what he needed to get, and so did Nat, for the satisfied smile she gave him before he sat down he knows she did exactly what she needed to, and got the information easy enough. Bucky gave her the once over before he sat down, knows her tells, knows she’s fine, but he wants to ask all the same, but Nat beats him to it, “Did you run into any complications?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Nothing? Nothing is making you smile like that?” Nat bounces her shoulder, not enough to disturb Bucky but enough to be annoying. She jabs him, only softly, but it still hurts, he’s covered in bruises, some days old, some just starting to form, but she does just miss hitting his stitches, so he’s thankful for that.

Bucky’s smile flickers for a moment, he contemplates wiping his expression blank, but not yet, he wants to savour the hot guy who blushed at his face and then stared after him, eyes on his ass as he headed away. The smile stays and Nat nudges him as she waits rather impatiently for an answer that she knows Bucky is willing to give. “I walked into a guy, but that hardly counts as a complication, it wasn’t at the scene.”

“Was he cute?”

Bucky’s phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket without shifting, he brings it up to his ear but before he answers he says to Nat, “As a matter of fact yes.” Nat smiles back, almost excited for him, they both know he’ll hardly end up dating a random stranger he walked into, but Nat savours any smile that curls Bucky’s lips these day.

**…**

In the end Steve is only two hours late with the sandwiches, and in all fairness it isn’t really his fault. He had to answer the call, and it was Sam who called him, so it wasn’t like the late food was a surprise to anyone. He did buy them all a bear claw though, to make up for the wait. No one thought he needed to make up for anything but they weren’t going to turn down more food.

Steve glances over at Maria twice in three minutes, trying to work out what she is trying not to say and trying her best not to let her expression show whatever just occurred to her as she almost dropped her sandwich a few minutes ago. Sam exchanges a look with Steve but neither of them say anything, the four of them chat about cases and eat until Clint’s phone almost blows up with text messages and he jumps out of his seat, bear claw forgotten on his desk as he heads off without an explanation.

“We need to do something for Clint’s birthday.” Maria brings it up as soon as Clint is around the corner. It would be safer if she’d waited a few minutes or if he’d turned his hearing aids off, but he never does that at work. Maria is impatient and she also knows that odds on Clint won’t take long to chat to whoever he needs to talk to.

Sam only just resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Obviously.”

“It’s in two weeks right?” Steve asks. He takes another bite on his sandwich as wonders what they could do. Clint hadn’t brought up his birthday, not even in passing and Steve wonders if that means he just doesn’t want to talk about himself or it’s something else.

Maria ignores Sam and answers Steve, “Yup.”

“What should we do?”  Steve reaches for his bottle and ignores the ringing phone a few desks over, it’s not for them, so they won’t answer it.

“Strip club?” Sam suggests with a grin. He isn’t serious, well not really, he simply does it for the sigh that he knows Steve and Maria will both give him, and they don’t let him down.

Maria laughs at Sam’s idea as well, before taking another bite of her dessert. “I was thinking more like a meal?”

“We could do lunch.” Sam smiles, his suggestion a lot more helpful now. Part of him thinks something bigger would do, but he knows Clint has other friends, and taking a lunch with just the four of them for his birthday, is just enough.

Steve thinks on that for a few moment, “Take a long lunch.”

“Well we-” Maria starts before she’s cut off by the phone that comes alive on her desk. The other two watch as her expression changes from careful and easy to something else entirely. She nods and takes a few notes as she listens, and Sam finishes his sandwich off quickly, knowing that their ‘down-time’ will soon be over.

“Never a dull moment.” Steve sighs as Maria nods at them both, they know that look, they know it means get up and get ready to go. And Steve hopes this case won’t be too bad.

**…**

“I’m in position.” Bucky breathes as he answers, he doesn’t want to alert them of their presence, so he makes sure his body is still and that he is completely out of view.

It isn’t Nat’s voice that replies, definitely not the voice he expected. “You have a blender right?”

“I’m a little busy right now Tony.” Bucky hisses into his phone, wondering why he didn’t check the caller id before he picked up. Of course it wasn’t Nat, of course he had to call now, not an hour ago when they were in the car or a few hours back when they stopped for a bite to eat, but now, now that he was in position, glock in one hand and a flashlight in the other. He needs to hang up on Tony but right now he’s hand are a little busy, he just hopes he doesn’t miss Nat’s signal.

Tony sighs, and Bucky can hear chattering in the background. From Tony’s bored tone he guesses he’s probably in a meeting right now, and is struggling to focus. “Yes or No?”

“Yes.” Bucky’s moving now, silent and slow, he has another call, which means Nat is giving him the signal, hopefully telling him to proceed not to abort.

“Do you want me to bring ice for Clint’s?” Tony is talking quietly now, whispering into Bucky’s ear and Bucky isn’t sure whether it’s for Bucky’s benefit or for Tony’s, either way he’s thankful.

Bucky doesn’t roll his eyes and he goes around the corner, he is completely focussed on his surroundings as he breathes, “This couldn’t have waited?”

“Well I just- Is that a gun shot?” Bucky doesn’t flinch at the gun fire that is raining down on him but he does flinch a little at Tony screaming in his ear, “Bucky! Buc-” Hand free for a moment, Bucky cuts the call and rings Nat as he fires back. Three shots and two bodies fall, the bullets stop and Bucky scolds himself, he shouldn’t have needed to use that extra bullet. It’s not like he was going to run out, but he liked to use as little ammo as possible.

**…**

Steve was wrong, oh how he was wrong. He had hoped this wouldn’t go badly, but so far it had gone worse than they had imagined. Splitting up was not the best plan, he knows that now. At first they thought this was an old lead, they thought that they’d missed this guy yet again, but now it was abundantly clear that they hadn’t missed him, he was still here. He hadn’t been waiting for them but he was prepared nonetheless. This case was over three months old now, had been put on a backburner, but not anymore.

“Put the gun down!” Sam yells and Steve stiffens. No one knows he’s here, he made sure of that, he knows that Sam can’t see him, that his radio is out, that Maria is probably unconscious and that Sam has at least one gun pointed at his head. “Look we can help you-”

Steve hates these old buildings, he always feels like he’s about to fall through the floor, but perhaps that is exactly what he needs right now. He’s on the floor above and can see them in between the floorboards. None of them have creaked and alerted anyone of his presence but that doesn’t mean they won’t. There isn’t time to go to the staircase, there are running out of time so Steve has to think fast. They’ll yell at him later, if this works that is, but Captain America is what the call him, and although he doesn’t do it on purpose, he often finds himself proving why they call him that in the first place.

“Help me!” The blonde yells widely, and throws his head back as he laughs. “You can’t help me, don’t you see that.” Steve can see the blonde’s hands shaking as he points the gun at Sam, he looks like a cornered animal, Steve knows he probably doesn’t want to shoot Sam but that doesn’t mean shit, just because he doesn’t want to doesn’t mean he won’t. When people’s lives are on the line they don’t follow what they want to do and do what they think they need to do to survive. 

“You should have helped her!” The blonde’s voice cracks and he is crying now, his sobbing covers the sounds of Steve’s movements but he’s still careful. He may have walked into someone only hours ago but he was an entirely different headspace now. “But you didn’t, did you! She died-”

 “She wouldn’t have wanted this.” Sam’s voice is calm and without seeing him, Steve knows that his face is soft and his palms are probably presented, as he stands still not wanting to give this guy any reason to shoot at him or Maria who Steve can now see on the floor, trying to reach her gun without moving noticeably.

“She’s dead she can’t want anything, they took that from her, they took it all and you guys didn’t do anything.” Still shaking his head, the man’s grip on the gun tightens and he looks hopeless, desperate, and Steve has a feeling that if he makes a sound up here, the guy will shoot without thought. Praying to a God his mother believed in that he doesn’t make a sound, Steve makes his way towards the gunman.

“So you had to.” Soothing as Sam’s voice may be it doesn’t help the man. Steve pauses, he’s where he wants to be, where he needs to be, he’s not a sniper he probably couldn’t get a clean shot on this guy from this vantage point but he doesn’t want to kill this man if he can help it so he presses the ball of his foot against the floorboard in front of him, testing its strength.

“I did what I needed to do!” The blonde screams, tears streaming down his face and Steve can see through the crack that the gun is no longer pointed at Sam. He isn’t sure this will work, isn’t entirely sure that he will be heavy enough to fall through one floor and light enough not to fall through the other, but he doesn’t have any time to think, this will frighten the man, may make him shoot, so with the gun pointed at the ceiling, he has to do it now.

Hoping that Maria doesn’t use right now to grab her gun and accidentally shoot him, Steve jumps and lands on the floorboards as heavily as he can. He can hear the blonde scream as the floorboards give way and he drops from the ceiling, just as planned. His gun in his holster he shifts his body as he falls, tries to land as best he can. He doesn’t need to see Sam’s face to know he is gaping, doesn’t need to see Maria to know she is probably rolling her eyes at him.

The gun falls from a relaxed grip, but with floorboards falling and Steve landing on nails and concrete and wood, he rolls over as a few floorboards splinter and he avoids falling down to the next floor by about 2 seconds. On his feet moments later, the room still frozen around him, Steve lunges forward and tackles the man to the ground. He doesn’t seem like a threat but he did manage to take Maria but Steve knows that she doesn’t go down without a fight. This man may be in shock but Steve isn’t sure how long that will last. Legs aching from the fall and adrenaline pumping, Steve’s heartbeat is in his ears as he pushes the blonde man to the ground and rips the second gun out of his hand that he just had the sense to pull out of the back of his pants, and Steve throws it across the room.

“Sir you are under arrest.” Steve says, a little out of breath as he pants and pulls out his cuffs and straps them onto the man who is lying on his stomach, hands behind his back, still not recovered from the man in the suit that pretty much fell from the sky.

Despite the situation, Sam is bent over laughing and Maria is clapping as she pulls herself to her feet, gun slipping into her own holster as she beams at Steve. Blood is dripping from a cut in her forehead and she may have a few bruises but right now her stomach is starting to hurt from laughing. The blonde man doesn’t say a word, lips pursed and seemingly a little dazed.

“Cap is back!” Maria yells from across the room and the pounding in Steve’s ears slows down and his hardened expression gives way as he glances over at Maria who is grinning at him, hand pressed against her forehead as she laughs.

Sam is alternating between staring up at the hole in the ceiling and the smaller hole in the floor. Shaking his head he chuckles, “Good job Cap.”

Hauling the man up off the ground, Steve chucks his phone over to Sam, they need to call this in. Maria is still laughing as Steve makes his way over to her, hands on the perp as he avoids falling down another level. Rolling his eyes, Steve groans, “I’m never going to hear the end of this am I?”

“Not likely!” Sam answers merrily as he wraps an arm around Maria and helps her down the stairs, the blonde silent by Steve’s side. “I’m Rogers, Steve Rogers.” Sam adds in his best Sean Connery impersonation that makes Maria bark out a laugh and even the blonde man smiles a little at that.

“I’m not 007!” Sam just snorts at that and gives him a ‘try telling yourself that’ look and ignores Steve’s eye roll. Body still hurting, Maria tries not to laugh but can’t help herself when she notices Steve’s indignant expression. He never did stuff to get talked about, but he wouldn’t hear the end of this for a while.

**…**

He hadn’t been staring at his phone for the past three hours. He hadn’t been willing it to ring. He hadn’t been thinking about tracking down the phone and sending an ambulance and a police car to the location. Except he had. He had being doing all those things for hours, so when his phones vibrates, Tony springs up off his seat and clambers through the sheets of paper that surround him, accidently knocks off another damn award that sits on the corner of his workbench, an award he already has three of and never wanted and he ignores it as it smashes on the floor. Throwing a spring over his shoulder he works his way closer to his phone.

Smiling triumphantly when he finds his phone sitting on the sledgehammer he was using earlier. Lips parting to let out a tirade of questions, the voice on the other end cuts him off.

“Nat and I would love it if you could bring ice.” Bucky says nonchalantly, and Tony can hear the slight change in his tone that he is trying not to let on but he can also hear the smile on Bucky’s lips.

Tony scowls and he knows that Pepper is asleep upstairs in her bed but right now he isn’t really concerned about that, so he yells into the phone, “Really Barnes? REALLY? I hear gunshots and you hang up on me and six and a half hours later you tell me yes to ice! What the hell happened?”

There’s a pause and then a chuckle. He can hear Nat laughing and wonders if he’s on speakerphone, before Bucky coos, “Aww were you worried about me Stark?”

“No.” Tony groans and falls back into his chair. He doesn’t even know why he worries anymore, these two idiots do shit like this all the time, and since Pepper worries, he worries, and now he worries more than she does because he’s seen them do idiotic shit before and is constantly amazed by the simple fact that they are still alive.

“You so were!” Bucky coos and Tony groans. Feet up on the dash as Nat drives, Bucky makes kissing noises into the phone until Tony hangs up.

“You need stitches.” Bucky tells Nat as his gaze shifts to hers. She nods, she knows she does, they both need a shower and bandages and medication and sleep. They got what they needed and even though Fury yelled at them for about 5 minutes after he showed up two hours ago, it was totally worth it.

A question on his mind, Bucky rests his head against the window and opens his mouth when Nat cuts him off with the answer to his unspoken question, “3 minutes out. And ask Tony if we’re still on for dinner tomorrow night.”

Thumbs tap the screen and Bucky hits send. A few seconds later a reply comes through,

_If you two idiots live that long._


	4. I Almost Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was not exactly going as well he had hoped. Not against the plan so to speak, but nothing about this situation was ideal.   
> Their plan wasn’t really even a plan, it wasn’t even a semblance of a plan, but they had thought out specific portions of this ‘plan’ of theirs, and now Nat had been radio silent for the last forty minutes and in all honesty Bucky wasn’t worried, not really, but he was getting more wary by the second.

His phone rings again.

Bucky glances down at it, he has a half a dozen missed calls and over a dozen texts, letting it ring a few more times, he yanks open the curtains, letting their apartment flood with the morning light before he answers, “Hello.”

“About damn time one of you picked up, where the hell are you?” It’s Clint, and Bucky looks over at Nat, then glances at his phone again. He is too tired to be yelled at by Clint, his body still aches and he is half asleep and he can see no reason for his location to be commanded out of him, Nat is still in pyjamas, and so is Bucky, both of them hauled their asses out of bed less than five minutes ago, seconds after their alarms rang out.

“Home, why?” Bucky answers, Nat pushes a cup of coffee into his hand and he puts his phone on speaker phone before placing it on the counter. Nat doesn’t even question it, she simply waits for the voice on the other end of the line to answer as she scrunches up her eyes before opening them again, in a bid to grow accustomed to the light seeping into the room.

“Just got a new case, Fury wants the two of you on it.” Clint answers, and Bucky swears, that the corners of Nat’s lip curl into a smile just from the sound of his voice, but he bites his tongue and takes a sip of his coffee, instead of commenting on it. He had already yelled at them this week, less than 12 hours ago in fact, what more did he want.

“Wait the orders coming for Fury, why?” Nat asks, leaning against the counter before taking a long sip of her coffee knowing full well that this conversation is going to end with her brain needing to be fully alert and operation, and without this coffee there is no way of that happening in the foreseeable future.

“You know why.” Clint answers, Bucky opens his mouth to say something but the line falls silent as Clint hangs up.

“Well, we gotta get to work.” Bucky groans as he downs his coffee, and heads to towards his room. No time for a shower, he strips off, pulls a relatively clean three quarter sleeve shirt over his head before pulling on a pair of jeans. One of the reasons he loves working in narco is he doesn’t _have_ to wear a suit. He doesn’t hate wearing suits, hell he looks great in them, he knows that, and god does he love seeing some of those detectives in their suits, but he likes the fact he can spend most days in his jeans and doesn’t have to iron a shirt every morning.

“He’s gonna ask again!” Nat yells through the wall and Bucky sighs.

“Every damn time.” He mutters as he grabs his belt. The caffeine is already starting to work its magic, but not fast enough, the prospect of another conversation about the next step in his career, the step that he does not want to take, the step forward that he has no intention of taking, will certainly put a damper on his morning.

**…**

Steve didn’t used to be coffee dependent, he wasn’t always so reliant on it. He could wake up and actually feel refreshed, he could go for a run and enjoy the morning breeze and smile up at the sky and just be happy, and ready to take on the day. Not that he doesn’t do those things now, just not as much as he would like to. He now requires caffeine to function, his brain needs it and even though he still sort of hates the taste he puts up with it, it’s a means to an end. He likes the routine of coffee as well, he likes going to the coffee shop when he can and just being for a while, he also likes getting up and making them at work. Sure the coffee at the precinct usually tastes like shit, but he likes being able to do something for his colleagues, likes that they do it for him, likes that when he’s been staring at the board too long he can go make himself a cup of coffee and just be on autopilot for a few minutes.

So with his second cup of coffee of the day in his hand, he stares at his computer screen and wills the medical examiners report to be different. He has a suspect, a suspect who looks good for the murder, but if this man was killed between 6pm and 9pm, it can’t be this guy, which means he is back to square one, and he is not in the mood to be back in square one today.

Smile on his face and coffee free hands, cause he is so bloody perky almost every damn morning regardless of whether he got 3 hours sleep or 7, Sam asks merrily, “What are you moping about this morning?”

“Nothing.” Steve speaks into his coffee cup as he takes another sip.

Half way through his second cup of coffee he shouldn’t still be this half asleep and pining for his bed, but his neighbours thought that 5am was the best time to yell about whether Star Wars was better than Star Trek or not, and Steve had pulled the duvet up over his head and ignored the way his hand itched to pull his gun out and fire a shot at the wall just to shut them up.  An hour later when their argument was over, and Steve was actually starting to get back to sleep a bird decided to make it it’s personal mission to get as close as physically possible to Steve’s bedroom window and make as much noise as it could. Steve has never shot a bird before but at 6.30am this morning he really _really_ wanted to.

Pulling Steve out of his thoughts, Maria pipes up, “Uh huh.”

“I’m not moping.” Steve sighs. He isn’t moping not really. He is tired but that’s not the only reason he’s frowning into his cup. He managed to walk into someone else this morning, and she had hit him with her handbag and told him sternly that she would not put up with any shenanigans and that he would only get her handbag over her cold dead body. After apologising profusely and trying his best to convince her that he had no intention to steal anything from her for thirty seconds, he gave up and she gave him one final glare and stomped off, leaving him blushing and flustered, with an even stronger desire for another cup of coffee.

“But…” Sam prompts after Steve frowns down at his coffee cup for another few seconds. He desperately wishes that he was still asleep, desperately wishes that he could get a good lead today, that something good could happen today.

Sighing Steve asks, “Did you tell everybody about yesterday?”

They don’t need to know what he’s asking about. He’s heard just about everyone whispering about it since he arrived, at first he thought it was because someone saw him being assaulted by a middle aged woman with a bright orange handbag in the middle of the pavement, but then he figured out it was about yesterday, about crashing through floorboards, narrowing avoiding crashing through another floor and tackling the perp to the ground. He’s heard the mutterings, can’t help that people talk loud and he eavesdrops well. Some people think he was just showing off but everyone else has been talking how badass it was, and honestly Steve just wishes they would stop. He did what he did because it was the only thing that he could think of doing at the time, he had needed to move fast and he needed the element of surprise for that plan to work, and it did, it worked rather well.

“No I only told Clint.” Sam answers honestly, giving Steve a small smile. He partly understands why Steve doesn’t want everyone talking about him, but at least it’s for something good, and it was pretty badass, although not the coolest thing that Steve has done.

Steve’s gaze falls on Clint who holds up his hands in mock surrender, “I haven’t told anyone.” Steve gives him a grateful smile and takes another sip of coffee. He hates been talked about, because no matter if most of it is good, he doesn’t like been watched like that, doesn’t like been talked about. “Yet.” Clint murmurs, Maria hears but Steve doesn’t.

“Hill?” Steve asks when she doesn’t say anything, and keeps staring down at the file in her lip almost looking guilty.

“I only told Darcy.” Maria gives an apologetic smile as Sam and Clint explodes into laughter.

Steve groans, “Only? God no wonder everyone knows.” Downing the rest of his coffee, Steve drops his head onto his desk and groans again, wondering what on earth possessed him to leave a pen under two sheets of paper. Rubbing his forehead he leans back into his chair and tries to wait for the caffeine to kick in.

Sam rolls his eyes but smiles as he mutters, “Don’t know why you’re fussing it was badass.”

“There’s something else though Stev-o.” Clint prompts with a grin. Steve doesn’t hate the nickname, he did at first, but it’s grown on him, Clint is the only one who calls him it and he sort of likes that for some reason. When he was kid no one had a nickname for him, well not a nice one anyway, he likes having a nickname because it means he has friends, makes him feel like he belongs, which is one of the only reasons he puts up with it.

“No there isn’t.”

Sam makes a noise of disagreement and Maria hums, “Uh huh.”

Silent for a few seconds, Steve bites down on his bottom lip and forgets about his horrible morning and remembers his discussion with Fury the other day, the one that he hasn’t been able to completely forget about since. “I don’t need a partner do I?”

Looks exchanged, the others don’t say anything for a few moments. Maria kicks Sam under the desk and he sighs before saying, “Yeah you sorta do Steve.”

“But I-” Steve starts and Sam rolls his eyes, this isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation and he hopes that it’ll be the last. Steve is the only one who thinks he doesn’t need one, the rest of them know he does, he needs someone to keep him in check, someone that stops him from doing all the crazy shit that he does

“I’m surprised Fury let you go this long without one honestly.” Maria adds. Steve sighs, they are probably right, he knows they are, but he doesn’t want a partner, doesn’t want to be saddled with someone who hates him, doesn’t want someone who makes work a living hell. Seemingly reading his thoughts Maria adds, “It won’t be too bad you could get someone awesome.”

“Like Hill did.” Sam grins.

Maria rolls her eyes. “Or someone really hot?”

“Like Hill did.” Sam gestures to himself this time and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

The corners of Steve’s mouth quirk upwards, as Maria says, “Or a total pain in the ass.”

“Like Hill did.” Clint adds with a grin. Steve barks out a laugh and Maria tries not to choke on the water she made the mistake of attempting to swallow. Sam glares at Clint but the look has no anger behind it, he barely manages to glare for a full three seconds before he laughs too.

**…**

Just as predicted Fury does ask again. This time he waits until after he has briefed them both, and as they rise from their seats he gets Bucky to stay back. Bucky doesn’t want to listen to this sales pitch again, he knows that Fury could force him to take it, but he hasn’t yet. As per usual Bucky brushes him off, he doesn’t want to talk about it, he knows that he can’t avoid the conversation forever but he can try to put it off for as long as he can. And because the universe is on his side a knock on the door silences Fury only a minute in to his persuasion.

He scowls at the door until he sees the brunette waiting on the other side. Sighing he waves his hand, dismissing Bucky, “We’ll talk later Barnes.”

“Yes sir.” Bucky nods and turns to the door. He doesn’t flee, not exactly, but he walks out of the room as quickly as his legs will carry him.

Just as the door starts to fall shut behind him, Fury calls out, “Goodluck.” Nat smiles at Fury and Bucky keeps walking towards Nat not pausing at his word. He gave them this case specifically, wanted them on it, and Bucky knows it’s because he trusts them, that it’s because it won’t be easily solved but he also feels like Fury is trying to make this their last case and partners, well whatever they are really.

Smiling hello to a few people, Bucky and Nat make their way to their elevator in silence. Nat is waiting for Bucky to say something, and Bucky is stewing in his thoughts. Fury didn’t start the sales pitch, not really, and yet Bucky is still wondering whether or not he’s right, an odd thought that he does not often entertain. He respects Fury, but he doesn’t always agree with him, which is why Fury stays out of his and Nat’s way most of the time, he doesn’t always agree with their methods but he always agrees with their results.

Elevator doors shut in front of them and Bucky’s body relaxes a little as he leans against the side of the elevator, head dropping into palms as he groans, “I don’t get why he doesn’t try convincing you.”

“Cause I’m a brick wall.” Nat smirks, patting Bucky once on the back for support, a gesture she only really makes to annoy Bucky further. Bucky groans again as Nat leans against the wall next to him and ruffles his hair.

“And I’m not?” Bucky’s palms no longer pressed against his face, one is batting Nat’s hand away and the other is fixing his hair that Nat ruined. He doesn’t really care what his hair looks like, he doesn’t have time to fuss about his hair, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about her messing it up, he might be single but he still wants to look hot. Just cause he isn’t ready to date doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to look good, part of him needs it more in a way, with hot blonde guys staring after his ass as he walks away, what other self-esteem boost does he really need.

Nat stops trying to assault Bucky’s hair as she grins at him, a grin all too knowing and Bucky wonders if he said any of that aloud. Crossing her arms, Nat waits for the elevator doors to open before she speaks again. “He knows if one of us goes odds on the other one will follow.”

“So I’m more easily swayed?” Bucky scoffs. He hates that Fury is set on persuading him, he knows Fury probably means well, probably thinks of it as an improvement, but Bucky isn’t so sure he agrees, not completely at least.

“Yes.”

Not the answer he was expecting, eyebrows knit in confusion as inquiring eyes meet the very rarely unguarded blue ones. “Why?”

A smile curls her lips and her unguarded expression shifts as her eyes light up, equal parts mischievous and knowing. Bucky can hide a lot of things from a lot of people, but he can’t hide most of it from Nat, she knows him too well. “Cause part of you wants it, not cause he’s telling you that you should, but cause you want it.”

**…**

Bottle of water in hand trying to consume something that isn’t coffee today, Steve leans against the table, eyes on Clint who is rooting through the fridge, bent over and humming to himself, not yet aware of Steve’s presence.

“What do you want?” Steve asks after a few moments. Clint doesn’t flinch much to Steve’s surprise and he wonders how Clint knew he was here, he’d thought he’d been quiet, evidentially noise was everything.

Clint doesn’t look away from the fridge, one hand holding a stack of clearly labelled containers and the other trying to reach the back of the second shelf. “Huh?”

“For your birthday I mean.” Steve hastily clarifies.

“Bingo!” Clint cries, fingers latching onto a box of pasta in the back of the fridge and pulling it towards him. Silent for a few seconds he stacks everything back into the fridge before turning back to Steve, brown eyes not as bright as usual as he stammers a little, almost shyly, “Oh uh, I don’t mind, haven’t really thought about it to be honest.”

There’s something else, something that Clint isn’t saying, and Steve can’t quite put his finger on it. Instead of prying he simply smiles, soft and genuine. “Just lemme know if you think of something.”

“You don’t have to get me a-” Clint starts, hand going back to rub the back of his neck.

Shaking his head Steve takes another sip of water. It’s Clint’s birthday, he can’t not get him a present, he likes presents, hates receiving them but loves gifting them. He didn’t have much money when he was kid, doesn’t have a whole lot now, but he has plenty to give one of his best friends a damn present, and he wants Clint to know that he doesn’t feel obligated, isn’t asking for some requirement of a birthday, but because he actually wants to. Not knowing how to express everything Steve simply settles on, “Don’t’ have to but I want to.”

“In that case I’ll think about it.”

**…**

This was not exactly going as well he had hoped. Not against the plan so to speak, but nothing about this situation was ideal.

He’d already cancelled dinner plans with Tony, well postponed. As expected Stark sighed, and grumbled for about half a minute and then said that if they could, then he supposed that tomorrow would be acceptable too. So at least he wasn’t worried that at this stage he would have already been a few hours late.

Not a surprise, not even a little bit.

Their plan wasn’t really even a plan, it wasn’t even a semblance of a plan, but they had thought out specific portions of this ‘plan’ of theirs, and now Nat had been radio silent for the last forty minutes and in all honesty Bucky wasn’t worried, not really, but he was getting more wary by the second.

The guard had been a surprise, he hadn’t expected to need to take care of him only three steps into the building. But the briefcase he was looking for was nowhere to be found, and the two men that accompanied it were passed out in an office. Information gathered, Bucky had checked everywhere to no avail, the briefcase was nowhere to be found and the man that he needed to find wasn’t in the building either, well not as far as Bucky could see.

Slipping out of the back door and into the alleyway, Bucky made his way to the main street, off to where he hoped Nat still was, in the building across the street. Hands stuffed into pockets, gun tucked into the back of his jeans, Bucky keeps his head down and his eyes assessing everything. Faces surround him now, the pavement is busy, full of life and people, and as he weaves his way through the traffic, he tries to keep a look out for anyone suspicious.

 

First floor swept, Bucky finds himself hesitating as he reaches the top of the staircase. It isn’t the blood that gives him pause, he’s seen enough of it in his life to not be bothered by it, it’s the silence that is unsettling, the way the air seems to hang around him… A gloved hand curls around the door handle closest to him, eyes skim over the fraying paint and he tries not to wonder if they bloody smear was made by Nat’s hand. Some of the blood is still fresh, he can tell from the stench and as he pushes the door open a crack, his left hand moves without thought, covering his mouth and his nose as quickly as he can.

Fury was right.

Well partially. This wasn’t a turf war, Bucky knew that much, but it was something similar. Pushing the door to a close behind him, Bucky surveys the room, checks the corners before squatting in front of the two vics. The younger one he doesn’t recognise, although at this point he doubts this boys own mother would, but the tattoo over his rib cage is hard to miss, even with a portion cut out and dried blood smearing a good quarter of it, Bucky can still make it out.

“Fuck.” He breathes to no one in particular. He knows the older one, not by name, but knows his face, knows this is one of Pierce’s most trusted, and if two Hydra members are dead that means shit is going to get worse and fast.

He wonders why Nat didn’t call him over for this, only wonders for a moment when he spots three sets of footprints, none of them his and certainly none of them Nat’s, they were trained well, they didn’t leave anything behind if they could help it.

Lips curl into a smile as his heart begins to race, he hasn’t felt like this in a while. If Hydras involved it means this is bad, and he should be worried, he is, distantly, but more than that’s he’s excited. Some cases have a high that he can’t get any other way, and this is one of those cases, he can feel it already. It’s not revenge, not exactly, not redemption either, but if he’s Hydra he’s got a personal stake in this, something Nat understands but doesn’t know, doesn’t feel it deep in her bones like he does.

Phone pressed against his ear, Bucky murmurs to himself as it rings. “Pick up, pick up, pick up.” Part of him knows that she won’t pick up, and as each ring sounds he is growing more and more certain that she isn’t going to answer. Feet moving him forward, eyes scanning, he doesn’t have to really think, he can just do. He knows the drill, he’s done this often enough, but that doesn’t mean he really needs Nat to answer her goddamn phone.

“Hey this is Nat-” Nat’s voice rings out, and Bucky hangs up with a groan. He remembers when she made that message, it took her a full half hour to finally have a message she was happy with, and right now Bucky cannot be distracted by old memories, right now he needs to focus.

He needs to call someone, they need backup, they need homicide and a medical examiner, they need to get as much evidence here as they can, although Bucky suspects they won’t find much, not anything that will stick anyway. Glancing at his watch he tries not to groan, doesn’t want to alert anyone of his location if he can help it, he can’t call Carter, she’s on a date. A date that she has been nervously chattering about for the past week and she’ll only be halfway through her appetisers right now, she’ll get called in anyway but if he doesn’t call her directly she may get another half hour, maybe even an hour. With a soft sigh he dials Fury’s direct line, this can’t wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please please comment - this fic isn't getting many hits, so I'm not sure if I should just focus on my other fics and ignore this for a while - lemme know if any of you are still reading ...


	5. All To Well

“This is not good.”

Eyes on the road, foot on the accelerator and hands firmly resting on the steering wheel, Clint wishes he had coffee and instead goes for rolling his eyes. “No shit Steve.”

Steve is shaking his head, still shaking his hand, his knee going up and down as he keeps his body moving, full of energy as jittering in the seat beside Clint. He hasn’t stopped moving since the call came in, hasn’t stopped staring widely at Clint and then the road and then back at Clint for the last few minutes. He doesn’t really know where they are exactly, but he isn’t worried, he is too busy freaking out to really care.

Clint knows the city, knows the best short cuts and even though sometimes Steve thinks the car will never fit down a particularly slim side street, he says nothing cause Clint somehow is always right, well where this is concerned at least.

He doesn’t notice Clint’s rolling eyes, and wrings his hands nervously as he says, more to the road than to Clint, “No this is really not good.”

“Really what makes you say that? Two Hydra guys dead, at least one of the high up. Nothing could possibly go wrong.” Clint’s comment is laced in sarcasm, and he grins at the end of it before turning a sharp corner and speeding off down a side street.

Steve stops moving for a few seconds to fix Clint a pointed look. The blonder of the two almost smiles at that, brown eyes sparkling for a moment before blue eyes widen just a little, and Steve blurts out, “Who called this in?” as if the thought just occurred to him.

“Steve-”

Steve doesn’t care about the road right now, he is staring at the radio, his expression nearing abject horror as he manages to get out, “Oh my god are they still alive?”

“It was-” Clint starts, wondering if he will get a sentence in edge ways.

“God it wasn’t a civilian was it? Please tell me it wasn’t a-” Steve is jittering again now, staring at their silent radio, almost willing it to tell him otherwise.

Biting back a sigh, Clint swerves again, turning around a corner a little faster than completely necessary but it does shut Steve up for a second, and Clint uses that window. “Dammit Rogers shut your trap for two seconds. No it was a civilian, and I think they’re still alive.”

Steve nods, silent for a few seconds before he looks over at Clint assessing his expression before he asks, “Think?”

Clint ignores him. He focuses on the road, drives to the end of the street and turns left. Feeling Steve’s eyes on him, soft and inquiring, Clint stares very pointedly at the road when he answers, his voice far quieter than he intended, “They’re still in there.”

“Still in there? What?” It doesn’t take Steve long to process what Clint just said, and he instantly wants, no needs to know more. They aren’t civilians, which is good, but just because they are trained doesn’t mean they are safe.

“They’ll be fine.”

“Who are you trying to convince me or you?” Steve asks trying to smile. It takes him only a split second for him to work out that Clint is more nervous than he is letting on. Whoever is in the building are people he cares about, and the longer Steve’s gaze watches him, he wonders if the secret girlfriend is in there.

Clint ignores the question, and mutters more to himself than to Steve, “She knows what she is doing.”

“Then she’ll be fine.” Steve nods. He doesn’t know this person is, doesn’t have a clue, but him asking won’t help Clint, so he sticks with what he knows. They aren’t civilians and there is more than just one of them, and if Clint knows them, if he thinks they are fine, then Steve is going to go with that.

“But he hasn’t-” Clint’s phone lets out a screech cutting him short. Steve goes to chuckle, wondering who changed his text alert to a hawk this time, but then Clint is hurriedly asking, “God check that for me, tell me what it says, tell me it-” and Steve feels worried again.

He unlocks Clint’s phone without having to ask the passcode, he already knows. Forgoing a lecture on how Clint really shouldn’t let everyone know his passcode because at least he has a passcode now and Steve is going to take that as a win, and anyway as Clint always says not everyone knows, only a handful of them and he does forget it anyway, so they can remind him when he does forget.  “It’s an unknown number.”

“Course it is, they are constantly breaking or losing their damn phones.” Clint sighs, a mix of exasperation and fondness.

Tempted to bring up the amount of phones Clint has had to replace due to leaving them in coffee shops, or in a pair of jeans and washing both the phone and the denim, Steve resists and instead opens the text message and reads it out to him, _“Fucking imbeciles, egos bigger than their firepower.”_

“Ask if she’s-” Clint starts, before the phone vibrates again, cutting him off. Steve laughs at the text that’s just appeared on the screen,

_God Barton stop stressing she is fine. Nothing a few stitches and a bit of vodka won’t fix._

Clint chuckles at that, before getting Steve to type out a reply,

  _Eta 4 minutes._

The phone is silent for a few minutes. Clint and Steve sit in silence, almost waiting for the phone to vibrate again as Clint navigates through the almost empty roads, and Steve thinks for the third time in the last hour how nice it would feel to still be asleep in bed right now, instead of on his way to a crime scene. Sometimes he likes being a detective, but sometimes he likes his sleep more and wishes that he was smart enough to pick another fucking career.

The phone vibrates again, and this time Steve isn’t going to read it out with a grin curling his lips,

_At least 10 bodies down here Clint._

Clint sighs, says nothing but his grip on the steering wheel tightens, and he pushes his foot down on the accelerator with a little more force.

The phone screeches again and Steve checks the message,

_Poor bastards didn’t stand a chance._

Changing the text ringtone to the jungle chimes that pisses off Maria, Steve chuckles when it goes off, and then reads the next message out for Clint,

_Am I getting old or did Hydra used to actually be an effective operation?_

Clint snorts in reply. “Do you want to reply?”

He thinks for a moment, turns another corner and then says, _“You’re younger than me.”_ Steve types the message out and sends it, already eager for another reply. Clint is relaxed now, not completely, but a hell of a lot more relaxed than he was when he got into the car, and with both of them smiling, Steve wonders who he is texting.

They aren’t far away now, and Steve is back to wondering what they will find when they get there. He knows it won’t be pretty, knows that if Hydra is involved this is only the start.

The screen lights up and Steve reads out the new message, lips curled into a smile,

_Not my fault you’re a fucking fossil._

About to ask if Clint wants to reply, another text arrives before Steve has the chance to. Clint still sighing in regards to the last text, Steve starts reading out the next message,

_Oh Nat says you’re bringing Captain fucking America with you_

Reaching the end he stares at Clint, eyebrow raised, lips parted, unsure whether he wants to read what the text will say.

“Oh shit.” Clint mutters, shaking his head, he has a pretty idea what the next text may contain. One hand on the steering wheel, he tries to grab the phone back, but Steve pulls it out of his reach. “Steve give me the phone.”

“Who are we even texting?” Steve asks, really wanting to know now. The phone is just out of Clint’s reach, and Clint could get it if he wasn’t driving, if he wasn’t focused on the road and blindly making grabby actions to where he thinks the phone may be.

Clint doesn’t answer his question, instead he exclaims, “Steve!” as he shifts the phone further out of Clint’s reach.

The phone vibrates again and Steve’s distracted, just for a second, but long enough for Clint’s arm to snake around Steve and grab onto the phone, pulling it to safety and dropping it onto the floor by his feet, out of Steve’s reach.

“Cliiint.” Steve whines, really wanting to know what was going to be on the phone, really knowing what the next text would entail. For a fleeting moment he had considered that it would be something mean, but with Clint blushing he knows it won’t be anything like that, and has an odd desire to know what this stranger was going to say about him.

“What?” Clint asks innocently, trying to pretend that none of the last few seconds just happened. He had no idea what Bucky had just texted, but as his phone vibrates again, and then again only seconds lately, he is immediately relieved it’s hiding on the floor, away from Steve’s gaze. “You’re head does not need to be any bigger.”

Now that was not an answer Steve was expecting, like at all. “Huh?”

“You’re hot, you know that, we all know it, but you do not need to be told how-” Clint seriously looks like he does not want to be having this conversation, looks like there is a lot that he is not saying, and Steve isn’t all too sure if this has something to do with the fact that he hasn’t dated in a while and he is trying to give a rousing pep talk to get back off the horse. Whatever this is, he would like it to stop, and Clint’s expression is wholeheartedly agreeing with him on that it seems.

Steve is blushing a little now, staring at his hands as he interrupts, “I don’t even-”

“Then don’t even ask.” Clint finishes. And well fuck, now Steve really wants to know what this guy texted. He also really wants to know who this guy is. He’s a detective, he must be, and Clint knows him, is his friend it seems, and yet he’s never mentioned him.

“You think I’m hot.” Steve teases after a few seconds of silence. Clint groans, and if he turns the corner a little faster than normal and Steve spills some coffee on himself as a result of that then, well, what can you do.

**…**

Days like this he wonders if he should have listened better to his careers councillor when he was in high school. But at the same time, days like this are exactly why he didn’t listen to that bat shit crazy woman who suggested he went into a laid back career like data processing. He likes the thrill, the adrenaline flowing through his veins, and even though he knows that his body will absolutely hate him tomorrow, right now it doesn’t. He hurts yes, but he also feels alive. His head is clear and even though the pain in his left arm is threatening to make him pass out, he knows that it’ll fade, knows that his brain remembers the pain it gave him all those months ago, so even though it hurts nowhere near as much as his thigh right now where he knows he will need stitches, or the bruises already darkening all over.

This case has just began, and he knows it’ll be a shit storm, but this is the sort of case that he has been burning for, part of him knows he needs this, a case so overwhelming and complicated that he can’t help but be entirely submerged by it. And that keeps his head clear, keeps his thoughts concise. Nat and him can work under pressure, this is their environment, this is how they thrive. And this, this is fucking personal. If this case gives him a chance at tearing Pierce down then he will take it with both hands. Odds on nothing will get that high up, but if he can tear down some of the scaffolding, enough to make the whole building topple or even just struggle to stand, he’ll take that too.

But right now he’s not really thinking about that bastard Pierce or their next lead, or the pain that is thrumming in his veins alongside almost a tingling excitement for the next fight. No what he’s focused on now is the phone in his hand, as he smirks and sends another text message, even though he knows it’ll remain unanswered like the last few.

He’s not an idiot he knew it wasn’t Clint about two texts in, and although he wasn’t sure whether he was texting ‘Captain fucking America’ when the texts stopped so abruptly, he knew he was.

No longer assessing the rooms, enough notes already written down, direction giving to a few of the forensics guys who stopped complaining months ago and just shut up and take Nat and his prompts, Bucky is leaning against the wall, waiting for Nat to finish, or to find whatever she is looking for. “Stop grinning at that fucking phone and help me lift this.”

“You shouldn’t be lifting anything.” Bucky sighs, glancing briefly at Nat before he sends yet another text.

“James.” Bucky doesn’t need to look over at her to know that she is glaring at him right now. Her eyes no longer assessing her surroundings, but focused on one object in particular, she stays crouched in the middle of the room, no longer looking at Bucky.

This is a battle that he knows he will never win, because Nat would never win the reverse, they are both as bloody stubborn as each other, and if she needs to see something, or thinks she does at least, she damn well will. “You need stitches Natalia, you shouldn’t be-”

“Would you shut up and just-” Nat says as Bucky deletes the conversation thread, and hands the phone back to the officer with a grin and a quick, “Thanks.” The officer nods, before sliding his phone back into his pocket and goes back to cornering off the area.

Dropping down beside her, Bucky holds up the metal drum which is a lot fucking heavier than it looks, and hands her his flashlight knowing that hers is currently lodged into a Hydra mans’ skull. “Clint’s almost here.”

She hums, pulls something out from underneath and waves at the officer for an evidence bag, before the forensic team heads over to where the two of them are. Refusing to acknowledge the gauze that the brunette is holding out towards her, Nat asks, “With Cap?”

“You ever met him?” Bucky asks, eyes scanning her quickly, trying to figure out what to stitch up first when they get home. They are both in serious need of damage control. It’s not like they will bleed out here on the disgusting grime covered floor in the next five minutes, but make it an hour and they might be close to doing so.

Nat shakes her head. She doesn’t know everyone, even though she acts like it. She knows more about one Steve Rogers than most people at the precinct, but she’s never actually met him. “Nah, but I hear he’s cute.”

“Poor man you don’t even know him, haven’t even seen him and you already objectifying him.” Bucky smirks, lifting the metal drum a little higher while Nat fiddles with something underneath it, her face clouded in concentration.

“I am doing no such thing.” Nat smirks, a smirk that makes her eyes glint in an all too knowing way. Bucky hasn’t seen Steve Roger’s folders but Nat has, Nat’s seen the photo stuck inside the cover, she knows exactly who he is, knows what coffee he gets in the morning and who he manages to bump into. Not willing to share that just yet, Nat says nowhere near as casually as she can, “He’s single by the way.”

“Oh my god, we are leaving.” Bucky groans.

“What? Why? I wanna met him!”

Bucky shakes his head and seriously contemplates dropping the metal drum on Nat’s fingers especially when she continues to grin at him, a grin that he can’t quite read but knows there is something he is missing, something that he knows he will probably not like. “No absolutely not. You are not setting me up with Captain fucking America.”

“I might, if I thought it would get you dating ag-” Nat mutters, knowing full well that Bucky can hear her, but he’s the only one.

Hurriedly glancing over at the forensics guys that are milling around, and the medical guy that is eyeing them up, obviously wanting to practice his stitches on the two of them, and probably not understanding why the officers are finding his presence hilarious. They all know that unless one of them are unconscious, there is no way in hell that Nat or Bucky are going to let the medical guy touch them, not unless they absolutely have to.

An officer edges closer to them, as Bucky hisses at the red head, “We are not having this conversation here.”

“Why not? You won’t have it anywhere else.” Nat counters. Bucky resists the urge to drop the metal drum again but the officer gives him a look and Bucky shifts over so the officer can hold it for him. Bucky jumps to his feet and despite knowing better he extends a hand to help Nat up. She regards it silently for a moment before begrudgingly taking it, letting Bucky pull her to her feet before she starts, knowing that if she’s not squarely on her feet, he will drop her, “You haven’t da-“

“I’m busy.” Bucky cuts across her, taking their bundle of stuff from a blonde officer, or at least what is left of it that hasn’t been collected for evidence or destroyed beyond repair like his cell phone, his second this month.

Nat goes to shrug on her jacket but thinks better of it when Bucky fixes her a look that she knows ends interrogations, it doesn’t work on her but her body does ache and it’s probably best not to shift her shoulder even though Bucky’s already popped it back into place. “No, I’m busy, you’re celibate. Which is downright disturbing James.”

“I am bleeding and bruising, and that hurts less than this conversation.” Bucky whines, right hand grabbing at Nat, fingers slipping around her slender wrist and pulling her towards the back entrance. Nat raises her eyebrow but she doesn’t say anything, although in truth her expression tells Bucky all he needs to know about what she’s thinking right now.

“You need stitches.” Is all Bucky says, like that explains why he is suddenly pulling her good arm with enough force to rip her arm out seconds after they hear Clint’s voice. Nat chuckles and lets Bucky lead the way, she doesn’t wonder how he knows his way around this place even though they’ve only been here for a few hours, she already knows the way too.

He didn’t think this would even need saying but as Nat heads towards the driver’s seat, Bucky groans, pulls the keys out of her hand that he swears were in his pocket five seconds ago and tells her sternly, “Fucking hell Natalia you are not driving.”

“What because I’m-” Nat starts, both of them knowing that whatever bullshit reason she will think of will be precisely not why Bucky isn’t letting her drive.

Not wanting to hear whatever creative reason she comes up with this time, Bucky doesn’t let her finish her sentence.

“I popped your shoulder back in mere minutes ago, you are not driving.” Bucky says in a way that tells Nat that it is the end of the discussion.

After years with each other they’ve learnt to pick their battles, and this is a loss that Nat can deal with, so she shuts her mouth, does up her seatbelt and sits silently until their on the road again and then she starts teasing him about Captain fucking America to take both their minds off the pain.

**…**

In truth he’s a little disappointed.

Which he knows is idiotic because this is a crime scene, but whoever needed vodka and stitches is gone, and whoever was texting inappropriate things about Steve is gone too, or at least so he thinks. But so far Clint hasn’t left his line of sight and he hasn’t talked to anyone that he himself doesn’t know.

His sketchbook in hand, he pulls a pen out of his pocket and squats down in front of the man, fuck not man, this is a kid, practically a fucking child, but he can’t get pissed about that now, not when he’s not even the youngest dead body they found in here. This is a crime scene, and Steve has to work to do, so he sets about sketching the boys tattoo that sits on his ribcage, or at least what is left of it. Pictures have already been taken of the scene, and more will be taken before the bodies are shifted, but Steve doesn’t care.

This is what he does. He sketches them, certain bits of crime scenes, and at first he got shit for it, he didn’t really blame him, but when he started closing cases based on little details in his drawings that spiked a thought or brought him to a lead, he didn’t get shit for it anymore, people didn’t even question it. He preferred not drawing crime scenes, he preferred buildings and a child with a balloon and other small moments of happiness captured by his pencil forever preserved on the page, but that was a different sketchbook. This sketchbook had nothing to do with life, or happiness. This was dark pencil and hard lines; this was full of corpses, blood splatter and shattered glass.

Clint drops down next to him, file in his hand as he glances from Steve to the body. They aren’t squeamish, not anymore, but that doesn’t mean this shit doesn’t get to them, at least a little bit.

Silent for a few seconds, a thought suddenly occurs to Steve, “We should probably call narco-”

“Way ahead of that Stev-o, they called us.” Clint answers, giving Steve a tired smile.

Interesting, Clint’s girlfriend works narco, Steve stores that detail away for later. Eyes on his sketchbook he finishes his sketch before he looks back up at Clint, “Oh. Well we should-”

“Leave it to me.”

Steve turns the page over in his sketchbook and looks over the room quickly before glancing back at Clint as he starts, “But I should help-”

“You are helping Rogers, just stay here and do what you do best, take notes and then get some goddamn sleep.” Standing up, Clint walks back a few paces backwards, careful not to stand anything as he makes his way to his door. Steve nods somewhat reluctantly, with a case like this, sleep is not on the forefront of his mind that’s for damn sure. It’s not his fault he is at work at 3am.

Still squatting Steve’s eyes scan the room before he notices that Clint is lingering by the door, his phone in hand. Mouth opens to ask what the hell Clint is standing there for, he doesn’t have to wonder for long. “Only the best for this case huh.” Clint says voice slightly raised and tone different.

He disappears around the corner before Steve has the time to ask whether or not he just quoted from a text message, but he doesn’t have to ask, he already knows. He isn’t even sure why a text from a random stranger, that he doesn’t even know, praising him makes him feel great, and for a moment, surrounding by medical examiners and cops and blood splatter, Steve feels well, happy. Lips quirking into a smile he stands up, eyes scanning the room before he wanders out the door and down the corridor, curious if he will ever meet Clint’s other friends. But in truth, he’s more curious as to what the other texts contained, because he knows for a fact Clint’s phone vibrated at least half a dozen times after Clint stole it back from him.

**…**

After getting a phone call from Fury telling them if they show their faces in the offices in the before lunch he will personally shoot them both, Nat and Bucky stitch each other, take a few painkillers and fall into bed, leaving their alarm clocks untouched but don’t turn their phones onto silent.

Thanking the universe for not making Natalia a person who snores in her sleep, Bucky keeps an eye on her, measuring out the rise and fall of each of her breathe with his own. There’s no real reason for her to fall asleep beside him, but they both know if they don’t, they will lie awake in their rooms wondering if the other one is still breathing. They’re not even that hurt, nothing compared to past encounters, but with this new case, with the threat of Hydra looming, neither of them can sleep alone. Bucky didn’t have to ask, Nat knew he needed the company even more than she did, and they are terrible at saying no to each other, but she didn’t even consider saying no for even a moment.

He’s pretty sure that his ribs are just bruised not broken, but each breathe is a hell of a lot harder than it was this morning. Eyes flittering shut, he shifts his face away from Nat till he has his nose pointing up at the ceiling. The adrenaline is ebbing away now, and he just hurts, whole body aching, and even though it’s almost 5am, part of him doesn’t want to go to sleep, part of him wants to get started on this case, properly started.

But instead of doing something infinitely stupid, like getting out of bed and trying to be vertical, Bucky lets himself listen to Nat, sound asleep beside him, and he lets himself fall asleep, knowing that his body needs rest, knowing that this will probably the longest sleep he’ll let himself have till they get somewhere with this case.

**…**

Instead of a smiling face when he heads towards his desk just after before lunch he is instead greeted with a muttered remark from Clint as he slips down the hall to the interrogation room, an exasperated sigh from Maria and a question from Sam, “Do you even listen when we tell you to sleep Rogers?”

“What happened to your face?” Steve answers, pointedly ignoring the question. He won’t lie and say he’s not tired, but how is he supposed to sleep with a case like this active. There are things to do, calls to make, leads to follow, he can’t just sleep through it.

Sam frowns, then winces because he really shouldn’t move his face. Lifting the icepack of his cheek he glances over to Maria, “Did you hear that Hill, what happened to your face? No respect, absolutely no sympathy either.”

“Oh I’m sorry, Sam darling, do you want me to get you some ice for that?” Steve says sweetly as he drops into his chair, and stares across his desk at Sam, who doesn’t look too bad all things considered, but his face is a helluva lot more bruised than it was the last time Steve had saw him, and he was pretty sure the puffy lip is a new edition too.

Sam goes to grin before he thinks better of the action and presses the icepack back against his cheek as he answers, “No thanks sweet pea, Maria already did.”

“Seriously dude what happened?”

“Rumlow happened.” Maria answers, expression tight and words almost spat out.

It’s no secret to anyone that Rumlow is a total tool, sure he closes cases, not nearly as many as Maria, Sam, Clint and Steve do, but enough for him to be considered a good detective. A detective that Fury cannot actually fire because he doesn’t technically work for the NYPD. Which works for most of the time when Rumlow isn’t in New York, but when he is, it doesn’t work all that well.

No one likes Rumlow, not a soul in the building is friends with the man, but with his record and bright shiny badge, no one can do much about him. Apart from punch him in the face on occasion, something that Steve is prone to doing, and unbeknownst to him as is one Detective James Barnes, along with Sam, who will put up about as much shit as Steve will before he starts swinging. He’s not as hot headed as Steve Rogers can be, but Sam has morals and a code, and he has no problem putting scum back in their place with a punch or two, which was exactly what was needed today.

“Well Sam over here,” Maria starts, as she steals Sam’s coffee cup with a smile before dropping down into her own chair.

“Is freaking badass. Sam interjects.

Maria doesn’t look away from her computer screen as she quickly types out an email to Miss Potts. Steve waits, checks his texts, tries not to be disappointed at the lack of text from his mysterious texter, and then checks the notes on his desk, making sure that none of them are urgent.

Steve is just over halfway through the stack when Maria ends the silence. “Thought that it would be a brilliant idea to,”

“caped crusader that he is,”

Steve bites back a chuckle at Sam’s comment and keeps his gaze on Maria who ignores the comment and finishes, “Punch Rumlow in the face.”

“I feel like congratulations is owed more than a lecture, what’d the ass do now?” Steve is not a fan of Brock Rumlow. Not even a little bit. His fingers itch and for a moment all he wants to do is grab Rumlow by the collar, but he knows there is no need, not yet anyway. Sam is more than capable of handling himself, handles Steve too, has managed to help him out in more than a few tight situations, and judging by Sam’s smile that still lingers on his lips, Rumlow is worse off than he is.

Exchanging a look with Maria that neither of them think Steve notices, Sam just shrugs and says as nonchalantly as he can with his blood still boiling, “Oh same old shit.”

Not at all pleased with that answer, Steve considers pushing for more, before his phone rings and he pushes the question to the back of his mind, before answering it. He can grill Sam later over a beer and hopefully a burger and fries, but for now he has a case to solve.

Hydra will not wait, and despite Clint’s willingness to keep his cards close to his chest, Steve doesn’t mind, he knows Barton has his back and will tell him what he needs to know, which means that Steve won’t be dumb enough to follow this lead on his own, not with everything that’s at stake.

**…**

Despite wanting to actual get more than a few hours of work done, Bucky and Nat were sent home after Bucky so much as glanced at his gun and Fury told them to go home and come back tomorrow when they didn’t look like they belonged in the morgue.  

Glaring after Fury, Bucky finished reading the folder he was on, and Nat finished another search before Clint all but dragged them out of the precinct and drove the two of them home, stopping for a very late afternoon snack to keep their energy up on the way and telling them to go the fuck out to dinner and then get another full night’s sleep or he would take them both directly to the hospital to get checked out.

It’s an empty threat, sort of, but with the look in Clint’s eyes, neither of them were willing to push him. He may have a kind face and a smile that was almost always curling his lips, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a man to be reckoned with, so the two of them dutifully ate the sandwiches he bought them, even though as Bucky pointed out, ‘It wasn’t fucking afternoon snack food’ but another look from Clint shut them both up.

Several cups of tea later, Clint has been gone over an hour and Bucky is staring at himself in the mirror, wondering if Darcy would email him some files if he asked nicely, or if Carter would mind letting him know where they were at in the investigation. The answer to both he assumes is some derivative of ‘fuck no’.

Long dark blue sleeves cover his white bandages, bandages that hopefully blood won’t soak through over the course of the dinner. He was going to wear white, but had thought better of it when Nat told him he was an idiot trying to wear white when he was still bleeding, muttered something about men having no understanding and then stalked out of the room, yelling at Bucky to go change.

“Jaaames!” Nat yells for the fourth time in the last two minutes. She is leaning against the back of the couch, phone in her hand and ankles crossed. Her hair is perfect, and although she is wearing a cardigan that covers the new bandage on her forearm, she doesn’t look at all like she was in a knife fight less than 24 hours ago.

With a sigh, Bucky yells back, “I said I would be three minutes, I still have 30 seconds left.”

Technically he was ready ten minutes ago, and Nat was still deciding whether to put her hair in a bun or leave it down. But then he changed his tie and finished his tea and then got side tracked from his task of nagging Nat to hurry up when he walked by the mirror. It really isn’t his fault that his hair hates him, isn’t his fault that it just doesn’t sit right, that despite whatever he has done in the last two minutes and thirty three seconds has not helped at all. He would explain to Nat that his hair is an asshole but he doubts he’ll get any sympathy considering most mornings he doesn’t do anything to it but run his hand through it and head out the door.

“20 seconds.” Nat calls out.

Huffing at the mirror in front of him and glaring at his hair, he yells back to Nat, “Shut up.”

He isn’t worried, not really. He doesn’t care what he looks like, not normally, it’s Nat’s fault really, if she was ready when he was ready he wouldn’t have time to see his reflection, wouldn’t have wondered when the bags under his eyes got so big, wouldn’t wonder when then darkening bruise would fade and wouldn’t be frustrated by his hair which is totally non-compliant right now.

“Done.”

Pulling his gaze away from the mirror, he double checks his knives are hidden. He’s a responsible citizen he isn’t going to a fancy restaurant with a glock strapped to his waist, but he’s not an idiot, he hasn’t left the house unarmed in years and he isn’t going to start now that they’re sniffing out whatever shit Hydra is up to now. Knives hidden and in position, he makes a mental to practice with Clint when they have some down time, he doesn’t want to get rusty and it amuses him that Clint gets pissed that Bucky’s as good as he is at throwing them.

 “And with 8 seconds to go.” Nat replies. Glancing up at him as he stops a few steps in front of her, she smirks at him. He wonders for a moment if she’s going to comment of his hair, but instead she purses her lips, straightens her back, holds her purse with both hands and puts on a serious expression as she declares, “You are still in the running to become America’s next top model.”

“Ha ha.”

Because Nat is an asshole, she waits not so patiently for Bucky to be ready and then makes Bucky walk all the way to the front door before he notices that she hasn’t shifted from where she was, no longer leaning against the couch but about half a step away from it, her phone in front of her as she blows a kiss at her screen.

Already knowing the answer, Bucky sighs, shuts the front door and heads back towards her as he asks, “You sending Clint a picture?”

“Just showing him what he’s missing out on.” Nat answers, sending another snapchat to her boyfriend, who will probably send back his best pouting face before telling her that she looks stunning.

“Yeah I bet he is so glad he _chose_ to be stuck in the office with Rogers and Wilson while we wine and dine with Tony Stark, _especially_ since he wasn’t actually invited in the first place.”

No longer taking selfies, Nat’s eyes skim over Bucky before she meets his eye and asks, “You saying I shouldn’t be making my boyfriend jealous?”

“Fuck no, hand me that.” Bucky grins, extending his right hand towards Nat. Without hesitation he hands him her phone and Bucky takes a few steps back, before pointing the phone at her with a grin, “Now he gets a full view of what he is missing out on tonight.”

Nat poses, and Bucky takes a few pictures to send just to Clint and then one for snapchat. Bucky adds a caption, before she shows Nat, finger hovering over the ‘My Story’ button before Nat nods and Bucky presses it. Three images sent just to Clint cause Bucky’s nice like that, he hands Nat’s phone back to her.

“So the green works?”

Bucky gives her an exasperated look as he locks their apartment door behind them. Tossing up between ignoring her ridiculous question and being a shit, Bucky watches Nat for a moment, and as she takes a step towards the stairwell he notices the gun strapped to her thigh and he settles for, “God Tash, you look gorgeous, you would seriously struggle to find something you don’t look even remotely hot in.”

Nat smirks and Bucky hurriedly adds, “And no, that is not a challenge.”

**…**

“Barton?” Fury calls out. Sam pauses for a moment too, gives Barton a small smile and Carter gives an inquiring look, but both head out. Steve shifts to leave as well but Fury gives him a pointed look and Steve stays right where he is.

Maria leans against the desk, bent over the medical report and ignoring the rest of them. Fury makes Clint and Steve wait for a few moments before he looks straight at Clint, his voice sounding sincere and even a little concerned when he says, “Make sure they don’t do anything dumb.”

“Sir-” Clint starts. He doesn’t have to ask, he knows exactly who Fury is talking about. He thinks it’s hilarious that he thinks he can make sure they do anything that he tells them to do. They do what they want, always have and probably always will.

“It’s no secret that you and Romanov-”

Clint doesn’t even bat an eye. He holds Fury’s gaze as he speaks over him, “With all due respect Sir, they will do what they want, regardless of what I say.”

“They aren’t your department I know and they are more than capable taking care of themselves they have made that very clear, but they both need to rest, please tell me that they aren’t running around investigating instead of-” Maria says, glancing up from the report, apparently not as disinterested in this conversation as she first appeared to be.

“Healing their god damn bullet wounds.” Fury finishes, fixing Clint with a look.

Clint sighs, bites back the ‘there’s no need to be over dramatic’ and instead simply says, “It was a through and through Sir, Barnes has-”

“Seen worse yes I know.”

Steve stands still, wondering why he was made to stay, but he knows better than to ask. Instead he just stares at a spot on the wall, and wonders whether they should order pizza or branch a little more in terms of dinner.

Gaze still locked with Fury’s, Clint’s hand slips into his pocket, fingers touching his phone that has already buzzed about four times in the meeting. He doesn’t pull it out though. “You want me to check up on them?”

Fury doesn’t answer, instead he finally looks away from Clint and reads over the paperwork sitting in front of him. Maria sighs and answers for him, “Yes that’s exactly what he wants. He’s secretly a big warm cuddly teddy bear who wants to make sure his detectives are-”

“Not doing something fucking stupid.” Clint finishes for her. Maria smiles and looks back at the report out in front of. Sam and her will have a long night, she knows that already, she just hopes that they’ll find something, anything before daybreak. Not saying a word, Clint turns towards the door and heads out, leaving Steve to wonder if he should go too.

Fury isn’t an open book, despite all the time Steve has worked under him, he can’t read a lot from that man’s expression, but he does know that there is something Fury wants to say. He seems to battle with himself for a few seconds before he simply says, “Keep me posted Rogers.”

Wanting to ask what Fury really wanted to talk to him about Steve decides to not push, it has been a long day for everyone after all. “Yes Sir.”

“I know you like doing imbecilic things but this is Hydra, they are-”

“You don’t have to worry about me Sir, I don’t plan to be jumping off any fire escapes anytime soon.”

Maria snorts and tries to cover it with a cough when Fury glances over at her, before she just smiles and keeps both eyes on the report in front of her that has suddenly gotten very interesting.

Eyes fixed back on Steve for a moment, Fury looks down at his desk and waves Steve out of the room as he mutters, “Between you and the horror twins all I do is worry.”

Closing the door behind him as Maria drops into the chair in front of Fury’s desk, Steve runs his fingers through his hair as he sighs. This day has been endless. He’s exhausted, and seriously in the mood to go home, and despite himself he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the rest of the texts of Clint’s phone that he knows he will probably never be able to read because Clint had the sense to change his pass code.

About to ask whether Carter is going to join them for pizza, or well dinner of some form, Steve’s train of thought gets cut off as his phone vibrates in his pocket. Pulling it out, he rolls his eyes, it’s another personal file from Darcy, someone that comes Darcy approved for him to date. Not even bothering to open the file Steve closes the message, not ready to date whoever the hell J.B.B is.

Carter straightens up, steals the last sip of Sam’s coffee as she glances down at her phone and then makes an approving sound before glancing over to Clint.  “Barton don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Checking his watch, Clint thinks for a moment before he answers, not sounding entirely sure, “Uh, I don’t think so.”

Sharon smirks at that, looks down at her phone again before she heads towards the staircase, calling out, “Nat looks gorgeous,” before she disappears from view.

Clint looks from where Sharon just disappeared over to Maria who shrugs.

Not really making the conscious decision to lean over Clint’s shoulder and steal his phone out of his hand, it just sort of happens - Steve is gaping at the screen and blocking Clint’s hand which tries to steal back his phone.

“Wait? Who is, is that your girlfriend?” Steve asks, not exactly surprised, not really, but well, a little surprised sure. It’s not that he thinks she’s out of Clint’s league, it’s just, well, she’s out of everyone’s league.

Sam is out of his seat before Clint makes to grab the phone again. Clint sighs and gives up, falling back into his chair as Sam asks excitedly, “What? Let me see!”

“How can that possibly be the person _you_ date?”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Clint asks, trying to sound offended.

He knows they don’t mean it to be douchebags, he knows that Natasha is gorgeous and a genius and seriously badass and sometimes he wonders why she even bothers with him, but whenever he even looks as though he’s thinking that when Bucky’s around, he gets a whack on the back of the head and is told that he is fucking brilliant and the only reason Bucky isn’t fighting her for him is because he respects Nat too much. A joke though it may be, Clint appreciates the sentiment and the puffing up of his ego but not really the whack on the head.

“Nothing, just, damn.” Sam is still nodding at the phone, even though the screen has dimmed and then gone black. Looking over at Clint who is currently cleaning up the coffee he just spilled on his white shirt, Sam tries his best not to laugh when he asks, “You have got to show me your moves.”

Steve chuckles and throws Clint a napkin as Maria unlocks Clint’s phone and hums appreciatively, raises her eyebrow at the image before she turns to Sam, “Men do not get women like that with ‘moves’ Samuel.”

Clint wipes up the coffee and ignores the look that Steve gives him. Sam chuckles to himself before he whistles again and says, “I get why you haven’t introduced us to her yet.”

“God, what reason could you possibly have thought up.” Maria groans.

“Well look at him.” Sam thumbs over to Steve, who sighs. “And I mean,” Sam gestures to himself. “I totally get it.” He smirks and then pats Clint on the shoulder.

Clint just laughs, utterly unperturbed. Steve and Sam are attractive sure, but Clint’s not even the tiniest bit worried, not only does he trust Nat but he also knows who she works with on a daily basis and has done for years, and while he doesn’t swing that way, he would be lying if he’d said he would kick Barnes out of bed. Completely unfazed Clint tells Sam, “You obviously have not seen her partner.”

“The brunette right?” Maria asks with a wolfish grin. Sam and Steve share a confused glance, neither knowing who Clint’s girlfriends partner is and this ‘brunette’ is not helping them at all. “God, that man is _fine_ , I would eat him with a spoon _._ ”

Clint just rolls his eyes, before pouting at his phone, and sending Nat just the picture her and Bucky assumed he would. Ignoring the others laughing and smart comments, Clint sends another photo before rummaging through his top draw and throwing a Thai menu at Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope ya like it - more chapters to come hopefully very soon! Comment please, I'm low on inspiration and comments always help.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is sorta my baby, took me a while to get through writing. I only started with an ending scene and not much middle in mind, but well, it sorta spiraled a little out of control. It is a little different from how I usually write, so comments would be seriously appreciated!!
> 
> Please let me know what you think, and come visit me on [tumblr](http://alwayswithatoneofsurprise.tumblr.com/) if ya wanna chat to me bruh
> 
> This fic is completely and utterly unbeta'd.


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